


Nine Lives One Love

by The Mighty Oz (themightyozanne)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drugs, F/M, Gangs, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orphans, POV Multiple, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Substance Abuse, Torture, Urban Fantasy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 34,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themightyozanne/pseuds/The%20Mighty%20Oz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had hoped that they actually were coming back, that they didn’t just forget they had two children back home. You hoped they didn’t abandon you.<br/> </p><p>You thought they did.</p><p> </p><p>How wrong you were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abandoned and Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't want to say this is my first fanfiction, but I want to say I actually put effort into this one. The main pairing is Meulin and Kurloz, but Kurloz doesn't come in until later. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Preface

 

 

 

Your name is Meulin Leijon and you don’t know where your parents are. They have been on a boat trip for almost a month, and you haven’t heard much from them. You try to call them every day, but they’ve only answered once so far, and that was a couple weeks ago. The boat trip was not meant to last this long. They were supposed to be back nearly a week ago. You’ve called three times in just one day, trying to contact them to make sure they’re okay.

Or at least, make sure they did not abandon you and Nepeta.

You hold your baby sister in one arm and your cell phone in the other. It is pouring, but the awning of the gas station protects you from getting soaked. You softly bounce and sway in place to keep your sister’s cries at bay if only for this short phone call. It rings seven times, and you’re about to give up again when the other end picks up.

“Meulin, what is it?” a soft voice on the other line greeted your ears.

“Oh, hi mom!” You said, relieved to finally hear her voice after almost a month of not getting through. “I’ve been wondering how you guys are doing. The last call you answered was nearly three weeks ago . . .” You trail off slightly when you hear cheers in the background.

“We’re fine; it’s been hard to get reception out here . . .” Lie.

“Oh, okay. It’s been kind of hard without you guys home. Nepeta is getting anxious to see her parents again,” You try to make that statement as light as possible, but hope that it’s hitting a nerve.

“We’ll be home soon.” Another lie. Nepeta stirs in your arms and whines slightly as a drop of rain fell on her forehead. You back further underneath the awning and lean against the wall, swaying your arm again. “We’ve been quite busy teaching.”

You’ve been quite busy fucking each other on every surface of that boat. You try to suppress these thoughts as Nepeta nuzzles into your hair. You swallow a lump that suddenly made itself known in your throat. You had hoped that they actually were coming back, that they didn’t just forget they had two children back home. You hoped they didn’t abandon you.

 

You thought they did.

 

How wrong you were.

 

\--

 

“Meurin can I hab some cereal?” Nepeta sniffled as she slowly walks out of her room. You look up from your calculus book and smile while your heart does that clenching thing it always does when she’s around.

“Of course, my little lion cub,” You say and stand up, walking a few steps to the cupboards. You pull out some Lucky Charms and a bowl and set them on the table behind you while your sister sits across from where you were a few moments ago. You turn and glance at the clock on the other side of the room, it’s almost noon on a Thursday. Usually, after school you pick up Nepeta from preschool and drop her off at your friend Horuss’ apartment. He and his little brother watch her while you work at the coffee shop until eight. Today, though, Nepeta was sick with a high fever and killer sneezes, so no school for the both of you.

When you pour milk and drop a spoon into her bowl she happily digs in. She didn’t have breakfast when she woke up. She was too groggy and feverish to eat, so you sent her back to bed and had called Horuss to tell him don’t bother picking you up for school and to take notes on everything in class today. As she ate now, your cellphone rang from your room. You walk by Nepeta and pat her hair as you go into your room.

“Hello?” You answer, not bothering to check the caller ID. You knew who it was.

“Meulin, hello!” Horuss’ kind and strong voice greets. “I was on my lunch break and I thought I would check to see how you and Nepeta were fairing,” He continues. You hear a bell ring in the distance and look at the clock again.

“Horuss, it’s an hour before your lunch,” You chuckle quietly, but appreciate his concern. “You should be in study hall.” A small laugh sounds on the other end. You know he probably has nothing else to do for school right now, but he should at least have some time for himself you think.

A while ago, when you started your sophomore year of high school after your parents left, he became this sort of anchor for you. He helped you get the two jobs you still have and he’s been a blessing in raising Nepeta. Without Horuss you’d probably have to take Nepeta to work every day, which would be fine for the library, but not for the coffee shop.

“Will she be spending time with us after school or are you taking off?” Horuss replied, referring to Nepeta. On the other end Equius says something, but it’s too quiet to make out. Horuss says something in a comforting tone and you wait until he is done to speak again.

“I can’t take off again. Remember I got sick last week.” You explain quietly, glancing at Nepeta through your door. She’s eating her cereal happily and looking out the window above the sink. You suddenly wished you had enough money for cable so that Nepeta could watch cartoons. Sadly you only have enough money for the rent and your cellphone and Internet bill. Another thing you owe to Horuss. He was the one that sprung for your laptop last Christmas.

You had sold most of the stuff that your parents left behind, but that wasn’t enough to live on comfortably for more than a year. After you sold all the important valuables, save a TV and one computer, your parents didn’t have much. A bunch of books and handwritten journals, CDs and DVDs that nobody wanted, a couple of vases and a set of nice silver; eventually you had to sell the TV and the computer that you had left. Luckily, combined with the leftover money, it was enough to pay the deposit for a new apartment and rent for a month while you tried to gain enough money to do it yourself. The apartment is almost too small; it’s the best you could afford on a part time barista/book keeper salary.

“Right. I’ll take her, as always.” He replies happily as the late bell rang in the distance.

“Go to class.” You whisper harshly with a smile. Horuss laughs and hangs up. You stroll back into the kitchen and pick up Nepeta’s empty bowl. If she keeps eating that fast she’ll throw up. You think as you wash the bowl. You hear her get up and go into her room again. When you finish she is back out again with her blanket.  
“Ish cowld Meurin.” Nepeta shivers and shuffles over to you. You hoist her into your arms and sit her on your hip. She nuzzles into your hair, as she always did when she was sleepy. Your heart gives that painful squeeze again as you walk into the living room, which was pretty much the same room as the kitchen. You set Nepeta on the couch and turn to the fireplace. You were lucky enough to be able to afford a top floor apartment that has a fireplace, since you can’t really spring for heating. It doesn’t get too cold in the south, but sometimes the winters are harsh.

You grab the lighter and begin to set the logs ablaze. Nepeta slides from the couch and clings to your side while you work.

“What does mommy look like?” You freeze. The logs are burning now and you slowly put the lighter back down. You sit on the floor in front of the fireplace and pull her into your lap. You swallow and try to form sentences.

“Well . . . she looks like you.”


	2. That douchebag who works at the cafe with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The line was always to the door, all the tables always taken, and the stupid fuck in the back always messing up peoples orders never made it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Kurloz for you!

2

 

 

 

Nepeta is back in bed when your phone rings again. You slightly rush into your room so the noise doesn’t wake her.

“Hello?” You say quietly and walk back into the kitchen, shutting the door behind you. It’s a moment before a reply is given.

“Sorry I almost dropped my phone,” Of course it would be Horuss. You glance at the clock. It’s a little bit after two, so he would be heading to his last class. The background noise is loud and it’s almost hard to hear him. It doesn’t sound he is at school, it sounds like Horuss walked into a club that wasn’t playing music.

“Where are you, it sounds crowded.” You pointed out.

“Well I’m still at school. They said there was snow on the mountains.” Which means an early dismissal, therefore the crowded school goes into mayhem. It’s a good thing you and Nepeta stayed home. It would be hell trying to beat the rush of parents to the preschool. You lean on the sink and gaze at the mountain line. You can faintly see the snow coming in from the west as it covers the mountaintops. It’s a bit early for this time of year to have weather cold enough for snow, but you get excited for Nepeta’s first time seeing it. It hasn’t snowed for years . . .

Horuss snaps you out of your thoughts and tells you that he’ll swing by your apartment to pick up you and Nepeta. You will hang out at his house until it’s time for your café shift. You inwardly groan. The place will be packed now that people will be rushing in to beat the oncoming storm. Heaven forbid they go a day without a hot decaf vanilla cappuccino with a cinnamon swirl.

“I’ll see you in ten, okay?” Horuss concludes and hangs up. You slip your phone in your jeans and sigh. You’re going to have to wake Nepeta up and get her ready. Poor child is probably going to sleep the entire time she’s at with Horuss and Equius.

You try to wiggle a drowsy little sister into her coat and gloves and you sit her on the couch and put her favourite hat over her messy hair. The blue cat hat definitely does not match her pink jacket, but you and her both could care less; at least she’s warm. You step into your room and grab the coat and scarf hanging on the inside of it, tossing it on your bed as you slide off your sweater. In your closet you have your café uniform shirt and hat. You pull the shirt on and toss the hat and the sweater you just took off in your bag.

Your phone vibrates against your hip as you’re putting your wallet in the bag.

 

 

_8=D  Buzz me in._

_Horuss - 2:46 PM_

You pull on your coat and scarf and walk back out. Walking past Nepeta, who fell asleep on the couch, you push the buzzer next to your door. Distantly you can hear the door to the apartments unlock and open. You settle your bag on your shoulder and shake your sister. She blinks up at you, obviously grumpy from being woken up so much. Outside and down the hall the elevator dings. You hear two sets of heavy footsteps.  _He must have brought Equius._

You grab your keys from the dish on the mantle and hold out your hand for Nepeta. She slides her tiny hand in yours as you open the door. Horuss and his little brother are standing outside waiting. Equius is leaning against the opposite wall and Horuss happily stands next to him. You close the door and hand Nepeta off to Horuss while you fumble with the lock.

When you turn back, Nepeta is in Equius’ arms and gently tugging on his hat strings. You descend into the parking lot and pile into Horuss’ car. Horuss pulls out of the lot and into the heavy traffic. Things escalated quickly since the first word of snow. People rushing to the stores to stock up in case the snowstorm gets too rough and people can’t leave their houses for a day or two. Luckily, living in the downtown area, a store was just a couple blocks away. On your way back from work and picking up Nepeta you can swing by and grab some extra bread and peanut butter.

Though he didn’t have to, Horuss drives to the café first so you can clock in early and get some overtime. You thank him and lean back to kiss Nepeta on the forehead. When you climb out onto the sidewalk, you tighten the coat around you and bury your nose in your scarf. The car pulls back into traffic and you see Nepeta waving at you from the back seat. You weakly wave back and your heart does that awful lurching thing you’ve never gotten used to.

Your shift was long and rushed at the same time. The line was always to the door, all the tables always taken, and the stupid fuck in the back always messing up people’s orders never made it better.

“Eridan, can you slow down and make the orders right?” You confronted him when you went back to pull bagels from the oven.

“Can you speed up and not waste our time?”  Said stupid fuck calls back while you gently place the tray on the island in the middle of the kitchen. You glare up at him through your eyelashes. Honestly, he has to be a nice person when he's not working otherwise he must not have any friends. You huff and set about arranging the bagels on a tiered platter. He rushes past you with a tray of to-go cups and nearly knocks over the platter. You have to grind your teeth to prevent from swearing at him. The other workers in the back give you sympathetic glances. 

When your shift is almost over at eight thirty, you check your phone. You have a couple messages from Horuss and one from your other friend Rufioh. You go into the staff bathroom and change out of your work shirt and into the sweater that you stuffed into your bag. While you're smoothing your hair out in the mirror you read the texts.

 

_8=D  Nepeta's fever got worse._

_Horuss - 7:45 PM_

 

_8=D  The apartment's been snowed in. Nepeta's going to have to stay the night. Call me ASAP._

_Horuss - 8:25 PM_

 

 _  
_You groan and exit the bathroom, slinging your bag over your shoulder. As you’re grabbing your jacket from your locker you read the text from Rufioh.

 

_hey doll… Horuss asked me to check on you 1f you need anyth1ng s1nce the weather’s pretty crazy…_

_Rufioh – 8:27 PM_

 

_.(=owo).  EVERYTHING’S FINE, RUFIOH. I’LL LET YOU KNOW IF I NEED ANYTHING!_

_Meulin – 8:31 PM_

 

You put your phone in your coat pocket. You turn and look back at the front counter to wave goodbye to your coworkers before you exit the building into the cold night. Whoa, Rufioh was right. The weather did get pretty crazy. The parts of the sidewalks that weren’t covered by awning had at least three inches of snow packed on; footsteps littered and dirtied the pure white blanket.

You tuck your face behind your scarf and started walking home. There aren’t many people on the streets now. It’s too cold and late for most. You squint against the wind and streetlights. It’s still snowing it seems. You can’t fathom how quick the environment changed. Your shift is no more than five hours and yet in that time frame the whole of downtown Chattanooga became a modern winter wonderland.

You stopped at a convenience store and bought the last loaf of bread and a small jar of peanut butter. You added a couple oranges and a gallon of water that was discounted because it was dented. The cashier gave you a creepy look as he handed you the bag. You took it from him and slid the gallon of water into your arms, as you turn away you can’t help but to hide a disgusted sneer.

You ambled out of the store and into the cold night. You looked at the sky, snow landing softly in your hair making it slightly damp. You thought of Nepeta, and how you totally forgot to call Horuss to see how she was doing.  _Fucking hell._  You set your water and bag on a bench under the next-door awning and pulled out your cell. You tried dialing his number, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Horuss, I’m so sorry I didn’t call. I lost track of my thoughts. I wanted to see how Nep was doing, but I guess either your phone is dead or you’re trying to conserve battery because the power’s out or something. Anyway, give me a call when you get this.”

You sigh and slide your hand down your face as you put your cell back in your pocket.  _Meulin you are a terrible guardian and sister._ You think to yourself as you pick up your groceries from the bench. As you straighten, your eye catches movement in the dark alley across the street. You shrug it off and turn to continue on to your apartment. You walk a little ways to the crosswalk and a crash from that very same alley is heard.

You freeze. You cross the street slowly, almost slipping on black ice, and begin to walk cautiously towards the alley. You peek around the corner and see. . . Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You blink, confused and tired. Yet, once again, something catches your eye. You actually step into the alley, briefly thinking how stupid you are. What if it’s a murderer or a rapist or something?

But no, the figure is not a murderer or a rapist. It’s an injured boy. A boy that you’ve seen before.

 


	3. Are you an Angel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want to die and come back and kill whoever hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That took a little longer than expected, but I hope its worth it. 
> 
> YAY KURLOZ FINALLY
> 
> I'd like to thank my lovely beta reader, without her I'm pretty sure this would suck.

3

 

 

 

He is crumpled on the ground like a scrap piece of paper. He would have seemed lifeless had he not been shaking from the cold. The shirt he was wearing was dark and damp looking in places. You set your things on the ground as gently as possible and rush over to him. As you get closer to him, you can hear the soft whimpers escaping from him. What you could see of his face you can tell he is trying his hardest not to cry.

“Hey…” You call out to him. He freezes up at your voice, like he is bracing himself for a blow. Was there a lump in your throat before? If not, there was one now, and you try to swallow it down and clear your throat. “Hey, are you okay?” you ask gently, trying not to startle him too much. You know he goes to your school, but the way he’s curled up you can’t exactly tell who it is.

He whimpers again and stares up at you through his messy hair. Oh god, you can see blood on his face. You go to grab your cellphone but when you move suddenly he flinches and curls in on himself. Your heart feels like somebody dropped a ten-ton weight on it, like when Nepeta does the little things that reminds you of your mom and dad. Your breathing hitches up a notch as you try to stay calm. God, what are you going to do?

You kneel on the ground next to him and linger your hand over his shoulder, unsure of what he’ll do if you touch him. You’ve got to get him out of the snow, he’ll freeze to death. Gently and very slowly you place your hand on him. Again he tenses up so much you think he’ll explode. For a moment nothing happens. You sit there, controlling your breathing, hand resting on this injured guy you just found in an alley, and wait for him to do something or react or anything really.

He moves his head and peers up at you. You meet his eyes and for one gut-wrenching moment you swear you saw your father, but you blinked and immediately the resemblance was gone.

“You need help. Let me call someone.”

“No.” His voice is faint and shaky as he reaches out slightly to try and stop you from getting out your phone, but his hand limply falls next to him.

“Okay, but let me help. You’re bleeding…” You can see wounds around his mouth. You couldn’t tell if they were scratches or cuts or something else, but they were bleeding profusely and needed to be covered. Being careful to move slowly, you took the scarf from around your neck and placed it in front of his face. The look on his face never changed. It’s like the frighten expression was permanently stapled to his face. You softly pressed the scarf to his mouth, hoping he’ll get the message. His shaking hands came up to press the cloth to his face, brushing yours as you pull away. While he applies pressure, you take a closer look at his shirt. The dark wet spots don’t seem to be from different wounds. The blood from his mouth seems to have dripped down onto it.

God, he was shaking so bad and his hair is greasy and he looks like he hasn’t had a bath in days. You can’t tell if it’s the trashcan or him that smells but it’s all so overwhelming. You breathe through your mouth, trying not to gag. The trashcan smell and the sight of blood are getting to you, and it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice. It’s either helping him limp to your apartment to get him cleaned up or leave him here to suffer.

You ask him if he can stand up and he nods timidly. You rise onto your feet and hold out your hands to help him up. It doesn’t seem like he’s hurt anywhere else, he’s just shaking so badly. You think you might cry. He doesn’t take your hands to get up, but he braces himself on the building with his free hand. Oh man, he’s so skinny and tall and he looks like he’s just wearing a shirt over bones. Your stomach turns slowly at the blood that had run down his chin and neck. You slide off your jacket and hand it to him. He looks confused, like you shouldn’t be offering him your jacket, but you walk behind him and put it over his shoulders.

It’s gonna be a rough block or so. You have to pick up your water and bag again, trying to keep him steady as well. You hold the water gallon and bag in the same hand and keep the other on his bicep. At some point he had tightened the jacket around himself. It fit perfectly around him, which bothered you so much. It’s not healthy to be this size with his height. You feel like the next strong gust of wind could push him over.

When you can clearly see the Tivoli you think he might faint. He swoons uneasily and has to stop to keep his balance. You assure him that your apartment is just ahead, before the theatre, and he kind of lets out this relieved and shaky sigh. A few moments later, you turn into the doorway of the apartments and push the door in with your back. You wait until he walks in meekly and scamper to the apartment entrance on the right.

Normally, guests would enter and have to use the buzzer to be let in to that set of apartments. While you fumble for your keys, you feel his presence behind you. You look over your shoulder as you unlock the door. You can clearly see his eyes now.  _Crap, he looks high or hung-over or both. Great job Meulin,_  you inwardly scold yourself. You admit you haven’t really thought this through, but it’s not like you could have left him there. What if whoever injured him came back for more?

You’re at the elevator and you don’t think he can make it much long before passing out. When you get in and press the floor button you set your groceries down. You place your hand on the arm that is holding the scarf to his face. He looks down at you with burning and glazed eyes.

“I just want to check if the bleeding stopped.” You say soothingly. His arm slacks a little and you gently peel your scarf off of his mouth. The bleeding had stopped and you realized the wounds weren’t that big. They were small and round. . . You get sick again and try not to think about what they are from. The elevator stops at the top floor and you hand the scarf back to him. He clambers out after you and leans against the wall in front of your door. You thankfully didn’t put away your keys, but kept the apartment key clutched in your hand. You open the apartment door and step in, waiting for him to enter so you can shut the door behind.

He waits in the doorway as you quickly put the groceries away. You pull out one of the kitchen chairs and point to it, signaling him to sit there. As he moves, you walk into the bathroom in between your room and Nepeta’s. You open the medicine cabinet and take out disinfectant and gauze, grab a roll of toilet paper and the bucket underneath the sink, and walk back into the kitchen. You place the supplies on the table next to him. Your jacket is tossed on the back of the other chair. The scarf rests in his still hands, which are laid in his lap. He stares blankly at the floor, not looking at you as you bustle about, filling the small bucket with warm water.

“Can you tell me your name?” You inquire. He doesn’t speak for a moment and you place the bucket next to him and roll out some toilet paper.

“Kurloz.” He replies so quietly, you almost didn’t hear him. You test his name on your lips and he finally looks up at you. You dip the paper in the bucket and ring it out. You slowly move to grasp Kurloz’s chin in your hand. He flinches, but after a pause he allows you to touch him there. You begin to wipe away all the blood. It takes a good ten minutes before Kurloz is blood free on his face. You ask him to take off his shirt so you can get him properly cleaned up. He does and you almost cry at the sight of his torso.

Dark splotches of purple and brown bruises littered his ribs and back. Scars, fresh and old, were scattered amongst them. You don’t know why this affected you so much. You’ve seen Kurloz maybe two times in your life, passing each other in the hall, standing in line behind each other at lunch or whatever. Regardless you feel a vehement hatred for whoever beat this boy senseless.

It’s been getting hard to swallow lately, it seems. You take his shirt and throw it in the sink. You take another wad of paper and begin to clean the spots that bled through the shirt. Occasionally you would ghost over a bruise and he would stiffen, this muscles of his chest and ribs visibly contracting. You finish and gaze at Kurloz’s face again. The wounds around the right side of his mouth stopped bleeding, leaving angry dark red circles. They looked pretty deep; in fact they looked as though they went through the entire lip. You counted five of them, and as you did you realized they were in a crisscross pattern.

 _Somebody tried to sew his mouth shut._  You thought, absolutely mortified. He must have struggled, or they must have been drunk or something, because one or two of the holes looked jagged and oblong, those must have been the source of most of the blood.

You grabbed the bottle of disinfectant and you notice him looking warily at it. You smile slightly and pour some onto some more toilet paper. You hold his face again and he inhales sharply as you press down on one of the holes. You try to make quick work of this. You toss all the used and bloody paper in the trash and pour out the bucket as you let the disinfectant set in. You wash your hands of the blood and walk around the table to face him again.

His eyes bore into you, burning with intense emotions of sadness, fear, questioning, and gratefulness.

“Are you an angel?”

“. . . No.” You reply softly.


	4. Mage of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a strange, injured, man sleeping on your couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE YOU GUYS CATCH THIS BIG ASS REFERENCE I MADE
> 
> BECAUSE I SPENT A LOT OF UNNECESSARY TIME RESEARCHING FOR IT.
> 
> Sorry that this chapter is a little shorter. I couldn't figure out how else to elongate it without it droning on.

4

 

 

 

You have a strange, injured, man sleeping on your couch. He had asked to stay, though he didn’t have to. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you had tossed him back out in the cold after you cleaned him up. Kurloz breathed easily, but twitched every so often as if something in his dreams had startled him. You sat at the kitchen table, cellphone in hand, waiting for Horus to call you back.

Since Kurloz fell asleep you grew increasingly worried about Nepeta. Horuss had said her fever had gotten worse. You mentally beat yourself up for forgetting to call until it was too late. If you had remembered sooner perhaps you wouldn’t be so nervous. You decided to distract yourself for nothing could be done. It’s too late to walk to Horuss’ apartment, and the dangers of the city nightlife loomed as the ever-present blizzard that had ensued while you were working.

You focus your attention on him now, the light of the fireplace giving him a serene look while you stare. His hair, now clean and shiny, was messy and wild like your own, though it was a darker colour. He appears to be a mix of European and Latino, judging by his appearance and the slight accent when he spoke his few words to you. Kurloz’s height had his feet hanging off the arm of the couch by half a foot, and though they were now covered with a blanket you could tell that his arms were just as long and gangly.

You rub your tired eyes, a bit of mascara coming off. What have you gotten yourself into? You have no idea what this guy is like or what his home life is like or if he’s involved in some weird gang or cult. You could have just let the dark lord Satan sleep on your couch for all you know. The only things you know about him are his name and his injuries.

 

\--

 

It’s almost one in the morning before Horuss calls you back. You were sitting on your bed with your laptop, door propped open so you could hear if Kurloz woke up, when your phone buzzed next to you. You stop typing and quickly pick up, knowing whom it is without checking the caller ID.

“Horuss?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you sooner.  I volunteered to dig out the doorway so people could leave.” He explains quietly. “I had to climb out a window to get outside to do it.” You laugh as quietly as you can.

“How is she?” You ask, propping your phone between your ear and should so you could begin typing again. He explains that her fever had only gone up by a few degrees, but other than that she was fine. She had laid on the couch around nine and has been asleep since.

“I’ll pick up Nepeta tomorrow.” You say, looking out your bedroom window. The sill had gathered a few inches of snow on the outside. You close your laptop and get up to look in the direction of Horuss’ building. You can barely see it, even though the blizzard had stopped hours ago, the dark outline of it only discernible by a few lights in the windows.

“Since school will obviously be canceled for tomorrow you could do it first thing,” Horuss adds. No doubt he was looking out his window at your building as you are now. You did this a lot when you talked, mostly when you’re being emotional and angst-y about your parents, and also when one of you has something to say.

You choose to not tell Horuss about Kurloz. You don’t think you should burden him with it right now. Besides, if all goes well Kurloz should be home tomorrow. No need to tell him of an incident that doesn’t involve him and will soon be over.

-

You wake up about five hours later Kurloz standing in your doorway. You had fallen asleep while typing your paper for health class. You sit up and check the time. It’s almost seven, and a very dim light shines from outside, lighting up your room slightly. Kurloz shuffles awkwardly at the door as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Are you okay?” He has the blanket still wrapped around him, covering his mouth. He nods and you notice he is shivering again. The fire must have died out. You stand and walk past him into the living room and throw another log into the fireplace. You sit down on the brick around it and try to light it again. You can feel his presence behind you as it starts to flare up.

You turn so that your back is to the fire, trying to heat your sweater before you stand again. Kurloz is curled at the right end of the couch, gazing at you cautiously. You pull up your knees and wrap your arms around them, setting your chin on top. You two stare for a moment, drinking each other in. A few memories of him creep into your mind. You’ve shared a couple classes, freshman history and French, but you’ve never spoken in either. A thought occurs to you; you haven’t told him your name.

“I’m sorry; I forgot to tell you my name.”

“You’re Meulin Leijon.” You blink. How is it that he could know your name, yet you didn’t know his at first? “You gave a presentation in front of the school,” Kurloz adds. Oh, he remembered that? About a year ago you had given a speech for your school’s Organ Donor Appreciation Day, since without an organ donor you wouldn’t be alive.

When you were born, the doctors found you had a congenital heart defect. You had to keep having surgeries every several years, until about seven when you were bumped up on the list. You went under the knife and received a new heart. You owe a lot to the parents of that child that died in a car accident. Without their decision you wouldn’t have gotten a new heart. You’re also lucky enough that the coffee shop gives full health benefits that pay for your pills so your heart doesn’t reject.

“Um, when do you want to go home?” You change the subject. His face falls and he avoids your gaze by looking down at the carpet.

“I can’t go home.” He utters quietly. You raise your head from your knees slightly in surprise. You want to ask why, but you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t tell. You swallow thickly and rest your head again. Now what? If you kick him out you’ll continue to feel bad about it until you die most likely, but you absolutely cannot have him stay here.

“Where will you go when you have to leave?” You avoid saying exactly when. He seems to sink into the couch more. Another realization occurs in your mind.

 **  
**_He has nowhere else to go._


	5. Cocaine Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, intensified by the cocaine rushing through your system, finally kicks in as you kick Dartz in the nuts. He folds over and you elbow your brother in the mouth, feeling a tooth knock loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains moderate violence and abuse
> 
> IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED PLEASE MOVE ALONG
> 
>  
> 
> Holy crap this took longer than expected, but now it's up and I can relax for a day or two. =3=

5

 

 

  

“You wanna say that again, motherfucker?!” This dude’s breath stunk to the high heavens, and he is holding you by the shirt, putting his face uncomfortably close. You hold your lips in a sneer and keep your mouth shut, glaring him down. He lets out a frustrated gruff and shoves you roughly against the wall, purposely banging your head. You cannot control the wince and that makes him laugh.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought! You lucky we’re on Highblood’s turf!” He shouts, you fight a laugh when he calls your brother ‘Highblood’; their stupid nickname for their supplier. All these fucking fake juggalos piss you off; they always want to pick fights with you because you’re his brother. You don’t even want to be anywhere near all this shit, but it’s not like you have a choice. You were practically born into this gang.

The guy spits on your shoes and walks away into the street. You turn and start to walk to the back entrance, shoving your hands in your pockets and shivering. It’s too cold for the south this time of year, and the snow is starting to pile up quick. You pull the door and find that it’s locked for the first time since you were brought here. You blink and try to jimmy it open, but it’s sealed tight. You sigh and walk around to the front of the building.

When you get there, the guy who just roughed you up is standing across the street with a couple of his lackeys looking like they walked out of a Step Up movie. The sight of them made your lip curl in disgust as you bang on the glass of the front of the building. You hate coming in this way because it takes too long and only “guests” use it. And by “guests” you mean the crack heads your older brother sells to.

A moment later, you hear the door unlock. You pull it open and walk into the dark front room, pulling the door shut behind you. When your eyes adjust you can see your little brother standing awkwardly in front of the window.

“Why didn’t you come in back, brother?” Gamzee says in his weird gravelly voice of a chain smoker. You have no idea why he sounds like that, and you’ve stopped caring a couple months after he hit puberty. You glower at him through the darkness; he should know why you didn’t use the door. He’s the one who’s always here before you are.

“Door was locked,” You respond in an accusing tone. Gamzee noticed your tone and holds his hands up in defense.

“I’ve been here all week. Ain’t nobody comin’ in or out since yesterday.”  He explains as he lets his arms dangle to his sides lazily. You let out a little sigh and start to head into the back room, Gamzee following behind. The building was old and shitty and you hate it so much. You don’t hate it simply for its crusty nature, however. You hate it because it contains all your life will ever be; you and your drug addicted brothers hiding from the cops, eating shitty or stale food, and dealing with cracked-out crazies. This place is bad news, and you want to get yourself and Gamzee out ASAP.

You stomp up the stairs, letting your older brother know who exactly was encroaching on his domain. Only you could get away with making noise like that on his turf, though not for long. You round the corner when you reach the top and end up staring directly into your older brother’s eyes, or rather his neck given that he’s a little taller than you. Gamzee is hesitates about five stairs behind, sensing the ever-present tension between the both of you.

“Evenin’, brother.” You drawl. He sneers at you and turns back into the room.

“Don’t be makin’ that shit storm comin’ in. Why didn’t you use the back?” He scolds over his shoulder. You turn your head slightly to give Gamzee a little glare. He shrank back into the front room, probably to wait until everything mellows out up here.

“One of your cronies tried to rearrange my face.” You proclaim as your brother sat down on the dusty couch he usually sleeps on. He glares up at you, his greasy hair sticking to his neck a little. You try to keep a grimace off of your face, but it’s just not working. Dread begins to creep into your organs, but you try to keep the emotion out of your body language.

“The fuck would he be doin’ that for?” He questions, picking up where he left off when you entered. He finished breaking some weed on the coffee table and started putting it on some rolling paper.

“Hell should I know? You’re the one stationing them every couple of blocks.” You retort and lean against the wall next to the stairs, crossing your arms defiantly. He licks the paper and closes up the roll, glaring up at you the entire time. He put the blunt to his lips and dug a lighter from his pocket.

“They ain’t gonna get in yo business without a reason, Kurloz.” He replied sternly.

“They shouldn’t get in my business regardless, Hakuna.” You call him by his given name, knowing full well it’ll tick him off. Hakuna hate’s his name because it sounds stupid as fuck, and he’s right. You give a shit-eating smirk when his eye twitches a little. His short fuse is showing. He takes a slow drag and beckons you over with a finger. You feel like your stomach weighs five tons, but you push yourself off the wall and saunter over anyway.

The smell gets so strong that you’re almost choking, and you have to try not to let your eyes water. When you’re at the side of the couch your brother grabs you by the collar and pulls you down to eye level. Glaring at his bloodshot eyes you wait for him to get done blowing weed smoke in your face as patiently as you can.

“You askin’ for it.” He growled in a low, whispering tone.

“The only thing I’m asking for is for you to get that shit outta my face.”

 

SMACK

 

The blow to your face sent you back a few feet. An angry red mark was no doubt making its daily debut upon your cheek. You try to bring your hand up to rub it but your brother catches it as he stands up and turns to pin it behind your back. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Gamzee peeking up from the stairs. You refrain from calling out to him to get the hell out due to the fact that your older brother now has his hand around your windpipe.

“Fuckin’ tired of your mouth.” He grunts and begins to tighten his hold on your neck, twisting your arm harder as well. You cough and try to wrestle your way free, but he’s got you bent so far against him your head is almost at his ribs. You groan as you feel your shoulder dislocate. He feels it too and laughs, twisting your arm even further. Suddenly, he stands you up straight and releases your neck. The rush of air to your lungs makes you dizzy for a moment, and then he grabs you again. He roughly pushes against your shoulder and violently pops your arm back into place, making you scream.

“Shut your fucking mouth, brother.” He pushes you down to the ground, banging your head on the floor, further disorienting you. You try to pick yourself back up, but the room around you is blurry and spinning slightly. Your brother walks away and you can hear his footsteps going down the stairs. You hear Gamzee yelp as he is no doubt shoved aside. The back door opens and someone is called. You try to scramble back up, but by the time you’re leaning against the wall your brother is back and so is that douchebag from the alley.

“Told you he got a smart mouth, Dartz.” Your brother cackles and shoves you back on the ground, purposefully banging your head again. You grit your teeth as he holds your face down to the floor. Dartz walks behind you and kicks you in the back, knocking the breath out of you.

“Hang on a sec, Highblood, lemme go grab the needle,” Dartz said, a little too excited. You began to panic and struggle more and more against your brother, but he had his knee in your back now and one of his hands pinning your arms against your back, the other still pressing your face against the floor. You try to kick but he quickly sits on your legs, rendering you completely immobile. Dartz stomps back up the stairs and drops a bag in front of your face. You quickly sat up and thrown against the wall, pinned by Dartz again. Déjà vu.

Your brother rummages through the bag and you’ve almost exhausted yourself struggling to get free. You slack against Dartz’s iron grip and stare defiantly at your brother as he pulls out a long thin needle and a syringe full of God knows what.  He yanks off one arm of your jacket and snaps a rubber band around your bicep above the curve of your elbow. You try to turn your head away from the sight of the needle against your skin but Dartz holds your head in place, forcing you to look as your brother sticks the syringe in your arm.

Immediately when the fluid enters your veins, you know exactly what it is; cocaine, in its liquid form. It burns slightly as it enters your blood stream and immediately you feel a crawling sensation. You try your hardest to stay calm, but the cocaine is fast acting as it dances around in your veins, taking hold of your mind in little more than three minutes. Dartz and your brother are cackling again. Dartz lets you go and you curl on the floor, hugging your arms around your torso.

“Y-you fuckers!” You try to make your voice sound strong and defiant, but it wavers and stutters and overall makes you sound how you look; weak and twitching. Your brother laughs a dreadful laugh and grabs your face, forcing you to look at him yet again.

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut you little shit.” Again he slams your head against the floor. “Teach you to shut up and respect your elders, brother.” The last word comes out in a disgusted snarl. He lets go of your head and walks away into another room. Dartz takes this opportunity to kick at your back and ribs again. When your brother returns, you’re propped up against the wall with a light shining on your face. Dartz holds your face still as your brother fumbles with a large sewing needle and some twine. You don’t even know where the hell he got it, but the cocaine is making your brain go into paranoia. Your body is too exhausted already to do anything and you just weakly try to wriggle your way out.

Your brother grabs your bottom lip and violently shoves the needle through, piercing all the way to the other side. He grabs your top lip and does the same, though this time you try to flinch away, making the wound bigger than it needs to be. You taste blood and flail about, trying to escape. Dartz shoves you back to the wall, kneeing you in the ribs to knock the breath out of you again. Your brother grabs your bottom lip again. The needle tears through your lip, spilling more blood in your mouth. You feel it drip down your neck and stain your shirt. The twine feels too rough on your mouth as it slides through the punctures. It tightens, forcing half your mouth close, as your brother pierces your top lip again.

Adrenaline, intensified by the cocaine rushing through your system, finally kicks in as you kick Dartz in the crotch. He folds over and you elbow your brother in the mouth, feeling a tooth knock loose. You shake your jacket loose and bolt for the stairs, the needle and twine dangling from your mouth. Dartz tries to grab you as you run down the stairs. Gamzee is holding the back door open and you run through it and into the alley. You don’t get to the end of the alley before you’re pulled back to the snowy ground.

“Get him out of my sight.”

 

\--

 

You are given another dose of cocaine and shoved in the back of a car. You can no longer hear or see your older brother. You try to hold your head up to look through the car window but you’re so dizzy you black out for most of the ride. Eventually when you come to, you’re being pulled across the snow-covered ground. Somehow you manage to untie the twine from the needle and pull it out of your mouth, leaving it behind on the floor of the car. Whoever was dragging you stopped and let you fall fully on the ground. You instinctively curl up, hiding yourself from the world.

“Eat shit, Kurloz.” You hear a random voice say menacingly, another blow to your ribs follows.

“If we see you on Highblood’s turf again we’ll fuckin’ cut you open and let you rot.” This statement came from Dartz. Footsteps trail away and whatever car they came in follows. You can hear yourself breathing, and pain came with each breath.

Your entire torso must be bruised, as well as a couple ribs. Your arm is sore from when it was dislocated and carelessly put back into place. The dried blood on your neck itched slightly, and when you went up to touch the places where the needle went through, fresh blood touched your fingers indicating that you are still bleeding. The cocaine in your system is causing you to shake worse than the cold ever could, and making your thoughts frantic. You’ve always had a bad reaction to it. The crawling sensation had faded away and was dim against the new aching and stinging.

A gross smell meets your nose and you peek out from your curled position. There’s a trashcan next to your foot. You reach out to touch it with your foot, but when you go to move pain in your ribs intensified. You breathe in harshly, letting it out with a drawn out groan. You vaguely wonder if anyone on the street can see you, or if there is anybody even there. You take a deep breath and kick the trashcan, desperate to make someone aware that you're there. It seems like hours pass before you hear soft footsteps against the soggy ground. They stop at the mouth of the alley.

“Hey…”


	6. PaNiC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make a mental note to buy a damn shower curtain.

6

 

  

 

He only ate half of his eggs and left his glass of milk almost untouched. You don’t think it was because of your cooking. Even though he had stopped violently shaking he was still trembling slightly. You want to tell him he should eat more, but you restrain yourself. You just take Kurloz’s plate and scrape the rest into the trash. You take the milk and chug it, you don’t want to waste, and place the dishes in the sink and rinse them off. You turn and lean against the counter, crossing your arms.

“Can you tell me what happened?” You ask, knowing full well Kurloz won’t talk about it. It cannot hurt to ask, however. His eyes lock with yours, and you think you feel your heart skip. His eyes portray despair and anger and so many emotions that the intensity of his gaze makes you shiver slightly. You sigh and offer him a couple of aspirin. He nods his head and you walk to the bathroom. When you walked back out, Kurloz was standing in front of the sink and looking out of the window.

You walk to him and placed the pill bottle on the counter beside him. He wordlessly opens it and shakes out a couple tablets while you make a small glass of tap water. Your hip brushes against his slightly as you do so, making him jump and almost drop the bottle. You set the glass on the counter next to him and quickly apologize. Kurloz takes a quick breath in and nods. He tosses the pills in his mouth and he picks up the glass. In a couple quick swallows he hands the glass back to you and you dump the rest of the water out. Kurloz seems to turn to go sit back down, but pauses for a second. You gaze at him as you begin to wash the dishes in the sink. He turns towards you and bows his head slightly.

“Thank you,” he pauses. “Meulin.” You smile at him over your shoulder, mostly at his slight accent making itself known again, and start rinsing off a plate.  Now that you think of it, he sounds more European than Latino.

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t help?” You say, trying to play it off as not a big deal. It was, in fact, a really big deal actually. You still don’t know what’s going to happen to him once he leaves. You scrub the same spot for about a minute when you realize that Kurloz is now standing next to you again. You look up at him curiously, keeping your hands in the sink. He looks unsure for a moment, like he wants to touch you but wasn’t sure if you would electrocute him.

Kurloz lifts his arm and rests his hand on your shoulder, squeezing slightly. He breathes in and out in a sigh. You turn off the water and dry your hands off. Turning to face him you place your own hand on top of his, being careful so he knows what you’re about to do. You both stand there for a moment and take each other in.

What am I going to do? You ask yourself for about the billionth time in two days. You briefly consider asking Horuss for help, but you put the thought out of your mind. He’s helped you so much; it’s time you fixed something yourself. There’s not much of a choice. It’s either he stays here or be homeless. He takes his hand off your shoulder, holding a piece of your hair between his long fingers absentmindedly. As if Kurloz didn’t realize he was doing this, he quickly releases the strands. You take a lungful of air and let it out in a sigh.

“You can stay here for a while if you absolutely need to,” You begin in a quiet voice. “I just want to know if I can trust you. I have my little sister to take care of…” You finish, meeting his dark eyes. He slides them closed and breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m not dangerous,” Kurloz replies softly, almost jokingly. “Though the trust part is really up to you.” He adds.

You tell him you have to pick up your sister from your friend’s house and leave him with your phone after you text Horuss that you’re on the way. It’s about seven in the morning, but there was no doubt that Nepeta would be up. She was always an early riser surprisingly. You can’t wait to see her. You’ve been really stressing about leaving her with Horuss for the night. You tug your scarf around your face as you exit the building and turn right. Horuss was about a ten-minute walk away, but there was black ice on the sidewalks almost everywhere so you had to be careful. You walk past the place you found Kurloz and shiver a little.

Up ahead there was a black car parked at a meter. Inside was a man, but you didn’t really pay attention, at least, not until he got out of the car. He exits the vehicle and slams the door to grab your attention. He looks like he has rubbed his face raw recently. There were red splotches and his face was kind of shiny, and on the corner of his jaw you could see a bit of white face paint. You swallow thickly, trying to keep calm, and pause several feet away from him as he was blocking your way. He puts a cigarette up to his lips and takes a drag, blowing the smoke in your direction so that you have to suppress a cough. You slide your hand slowly in your bag and palm the pepper spray in your bag.

“Can I help you?” You ask skeptically. He gives you a once over and snorts quietly, walking past you and into the bank. He stamps his cigarette out on the ground and walks in, giving you a last disgusting gaze. Your lip curls in disgust and you begin walking again.

The sidewalk was almost caked with white; the road was covered in brown slush from being ridden over so much. Though it was December, first signs of snow in the south usually didn’t come until January. A few kids ran around on the other side of the road, laughing and throwing snowballs at each other. Even fewer adults were walking to their respective destinations. You looked up at the sky and watched your breath fan out in a puff of white as you walked. You thought about how Horuss and his dad, since Horuss would no doubt tell him, would react to Kurloz. You can’t imagine him being too angry with you, though you’ve had small fights in the past. Though, you cannot help the feeling that this will not sit well with him. Kurloz didn’t really talk to any of your friends, so you know very little about him. You know that he and his brothers lived together, though not anymore obviously. You stifle the despair and rage that rises when you think of who beat Kurloz and tried to sew his mouth shut. You attempt to not think of it for the rest of your walk.

You get to Horuss’ apartment building and let yourself in. They don’t have a buzzer system so you just go straight to the elevator and press the button for his floor, happy that no one else got on with you. You reach the fifth floor and stride out of the elevator and down to the end of the hall. You knock lightly and wait a moment, hearing Horuss’ telling someone that he’ll get the door. A couple seconds later the door opens and Horuss greets you with a smile.

“Come in, Meulin. Nepeta missed you!” He states and steps in so you could enter their apartment. Mr. Zahhak was sitting in the kitchen from what you could see. Mrs. Zahhak was probably out shopping for Hanukkah presents for their family. Which reminds you that you only have three weeks left for Christmas shopping for Nepeta and Horuss, even though you both don’t celebrate the same holiday you give each other gifts at this time of year anyway. You’re ushered into the living room where Nepeta sits on the couch watching a really weird cartoon you’ve never seen before, which isn’t saying much since you haven’t had cable in almost two years. Nepeta looks up at you and smiles really wide.

“Meulin!” She exclaims happily. She hops up from the couch and skips into your arms. You pick her up and balance her on your hip, noticing she gets heavier every time you do this. Nepeta nuzzles into your hair and you turn to Horuss and thank him for letting Nepeta sleep here for the night. You notice Equius is gone; he must be with Mrs. Zahhak.

“Well it’s not like she had much of a choice,” He laughs softly and pats her shoulder. She sniffles, but she doesn’t sound too congested anymore. You reach your hand around and feel her forehead; the fever was gone. You smile to yourself and set Meulin on the ground and tell her to go watch TV. She excitedly agrees and plops back down on the couch. The title of another cartoon pops up but you don’t care much to read it. You turn back to Horuss and motion for him to follow you into his room. When you’re both in, you shut the door behind you and lean against the door.

“So I have some news.”

“I figured as much,” Horuss retorts lightly when he sits on the bed and crosses his legs. He adjusts his long ponytail, a nervous habit he can’t seem to shake as he’s had it since you can remember. You tap your fingers on the door behind you for a second and begin.

“You remember Kurloz Makara?” He’s probably had more encounters with him, now you think about it. You know Horuss has had at least three classes with him since high school started. Horuss stares at you with a questioning gaze, an inky eyebrow inching slightly upward.

“Yes, we share an English class as of right now,” He answers slowly. “Why do you ask, Meulin?” You waste no time in explaining your situation to him, and avoid asking Horuss for any help whatsoever. After you finish recollecting your tale, Horuss sits with his elbows propped on his knees and his face resting atop his fingers. He is staring at the ground, analyzing the situation, also probably 100% judging you for letting him stay.

“Well, I don’t blame you for wanting to keep him off the streets,” He starts in a formal tone. He rises from the bed and walks to his window, crossing his hands behind his back and not facing you. “I do hope that your trust isn’t all blind. I’ve heard my father talk about some of the stuff Kurloz’s brother does, though he seems to have no part in it.”

“What does his brother do?” You ask without thinking. Horuss’ father is the school’s vice principal, so you don’t doubt a word. He turns his body to look at you fully.

“He is suspected to be involved with the Subjuggulators.” You blink and your mouth drops in disbelief. You. Are. Fucked. The Subjuggulators are the second worse gang in the state. They roam around the outskirts of the downtown area, dealing cocaine and weed, kidnapping and selling women and children every now and again. The gang has been known for almost four years, but the cops have never been able to stop them or even find out where their headquarters are, if they even have one. You’ve seen their graffiti everywhere you go; school, the store, art gallery, the UTC library, even the back of your coffee shop. You noticed that one when you were taking the trash out once. How close they could be to you and Nepeta, yet you’ve never actually seen a member. That is, until today. You remember the man you blew smoke in your face on your way here, and how you could see a smudge of face paint on his face. The Subjuggulators sometimes paint their faces like the clowns from ICP. About a million thoughts race through your head, one of which was how much you fucking hate ICP.

Surely Kurloz was not having any part in this, though you cannot rule anything out. You are about to let your kid sister near this very possible insanely dangerous gang member. You remember Kurloz asking you if you were an angel, his hand on your shoulder, touching your hair. He was nothing, if not gentle. Yet, your head swims at this information. Is it really worth it to try and keep Kurloz at your apartment? Would it be worth it if and when the gang comes looking for him? You think again about the possible inflictors of Kurloz’s injuries, realizing your heart sinking that the possibility of someone in the gang being the perpetrator.

The man in the car keeps flashing in your mind. What if he was staking out the place where Kurloz was dumped? What if he saw you rescue him? What if he saw you leave your apartment? You’re having a near panic attack when Horuss interrupts your inner reverie.

“As I’ve said, Kurloz is likely to have no part in the gang as a member. Obviously he may get involved in affairs, but the actual activities seem to have no interest to him.”

“How has he, the brother, not been caught yet? If Kurloz openly talks about it…”

“Again, it is only suspected. When investigated they found no proof.” Horuss is now in front of you, giving you the most sympathetic look you’ve ever seen him muster. “Please, if these allegations turn out to be true, be careful. At the first sign of trouble I want you out of that building with Nepeta and over here.” You start to open your mouth to protest but stop yourself. He’s right; you need to be smart about this. He’s giving you last minute advice when there’s a knock on the door. You step out of the way of the door and open it to Mr. Zahhak.

“I suspect you’ll be leaving soon, Meulin? I hate to kick you out, but I have to retrieve the missis from the mall and be off to Atlanta. Gotta pick up the wife’s mother and sister.” You’d think that after about six years of knowing each other that Horuss’ dad wouldn’t mind his son being in the house alone with you, but you don’t blame him. You enter the living room again and peel Nepeta off the couch. You say quick goodbyes and lead her downstairs and out the door.

On the way back you keep scanning the streets for suspicious cars and men, mostly looking for the man you encountered earlier. Seeing nothing, you begin to relax a little when you pass the coffee house. You hold Nepeta’s hand to keep her from wandering as she looks about her, eyes all lit up at the sight of the snow, however miniscule it may seem right now. You consider taking her to the mountains or the park where no doubt there’d be a good layer when you speak to her.

“Nepeta, I have something to tell you.” She looks up at you expectantly and you turn your head to look down at her. “We’ll have a visitor staying with us for a while. He’ll be sleeping on our couch. I want you to be very nice to him, okay?” Nepeta nods, excited to meet a new person, and starts to skip slightly while she walks.

“Whatsis name?” She inquires.

“Kurloz; He goes to school with me, Horuss, and Equius.” You explain, entering your building and shuffling around for your keys. While you’re in the elevator, the panic you had earlier starts to set in. You will remind yourself to comment to the foreman that you don’t feel safe enough so that they’ll bump up the security. When the doors slide open, Nepeta dances down the hallway and twirls when she arrives at the door.

You follow her, smiling idly and feeling your heart warm. You slide your key into the knob to unlock it, and then the two deadbolts. When you open the door, you’re surprised to see the Kurloz is not in the living room. Nepeta peeks in around you and gives you a confused look. You tell her to go into her room to take off her overcoat, hat, and gloves and then wait for her in there. She does as you tell her and you walk into your room, insanely confused. He didn’t appear to be in the apartment, so you decide to start Nepeta’s bath since Horuss never mentioned if she took one last night.

When you open the bathroom door, which was not closed when you left, you almost squeak in surprise. You quickly shut the door again and cover your mouth. You can feel a blush crawling up to your cheeks. You think you saw butt, you’re not sure, but there was definitely a naked Kurloz in the shower. You make a mental note to buy a damn shower curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit (January 11th 2013): I've been recently grounded and haven't had a lot of time to write or post anything in general really, but rest assured I have been working on this fanfic. I have not abandoned it and plan on continue writing for it until the story is complete. Thank you so much for reading. I had no idea it would be as good as it's gotten. <3


	7. She's thrifty, she's just my type!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What kind of Southerner would I be without the Southern Hospitality?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, and sorry if it seems rather awkward.

7

 

 

 

You apologize through the door, but you are not sure if he heard you. You go into Nepeta’s room and distract yourself with tidying up. You pick up some of her toys and put them in a storage box next to her bed while she messes with some crayons in a colouring book on the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you spot some rogue crayon drawings on the wall. You sigh and turn to Nepeta.

“Honey, what have I told you about the walls?” Nepeta looks up from her drawing guiltily. You place your hands on your hips and huff slightly. Nepeta set her crayon down slowly and put her hands in her lap and pouts. “Well?”

“Don’t draw on them…” She replies in a whisper. You nod and go to get the magic eraser sponge from under the sink. If you owned this place it would be different, but drawing on the walls while renting an apartment gets you fined. You run the sponge under the tap to get it wet and walk back to Nepeta’s room. You hand the sponge to Nepeta and she crawls over to the spot on the wall where she drew.

It was an adorable picture, you must admit. It was obviously her and Equius holding hands. Nepeta had drawn herself wearing her blue cat hat and had drawn Equius really tall, with his long hair. Equius never ties his hair up like Horuss, which kind of bothers their father. You remember every time their mother gets the chance, she sneaks up behind Equius and puts his hair in a ponytail. It drives Equius crazy, but it’s always funny when you eat dinner with them and Mrs. Zahhak has a plate of dumplings in one hand and a hair tie in the other.

You watch Nepeta scrub the wall clean as you change her sheets. Once it’s completely clean you go into the kitchen and open the freezer. You grab a fudge bar and close the door. When you go to walk back to her room, Kurloz exits the bathroom just as Nepeta walks out of her room, sponge in hand. They both stop in their tracks.

Kurloz stands hunched over, his back towards you, and in his shadow Nepeta stares up at him. For a minute her face is blank as she takes in all of him. You see her eyes scanning his face, and for a moment you wish you could see Kurloz’s expression. Nepeta begins to smile and you let out a silent breath of relief. Thank God she is not terrified of him. She holds out her small hand to him and smiles even wider.

“You must be Kerlos. My namesh Nepeta!” She happily says still holding out her arm, wanting to shake hands. You hold your breath as you wait for Kurloz to react. You hear him give a low chuckle and he holds out his hand as well, engulfing her tiny hand with his own. You begin to realize how stressed you were making yourself over this moment, but everything is perfectly fine.

You cannot help the smile that grows on your face as you walk over to them. You hand Nepeta her fudge bar and she starts to unwrap it. She skips back into her room and sits down at her impromptu colouring station on the floor. You look up at Kurloz and see he has a faint smile on his lips. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Nepeta eating the fudge bar and colouring at the same time.

“Don’t drop it on the carpet, little lion.” You call to her. She nods, but doesn’t look up. You turn back to Kurloz who is looking rather awkward, like he does not know what to do with himself. His hair is wet and he smells like the honey soap you have in the bath. You remember the shower and clear your throat. “Sorry about walking in on you.” You start, walking into the kitchen area. You start to pull the trash when Kurloz still stands next to the bathroom.

“It’s fine. I couldn’t figure out how to lock the door.” The door doesn’t actually have a functioning lock. It’s been broken since you moved in, though you’ve told the landlord about it several times. You’ve just given up.

 

\--

 

It snowed more the day after, and the day after that. It was too cold for the snow to melt, so it stuck. The county decided to cancel school until after Christmas break, much to Nepeta’s joy and your disdain. They’re going to tack more days onto the end of the school year because of this. Somewhere in that time span you decided to buy Kurloz some clothes so he didn’t have to wear Horuss’ old sweats.

You pick Nepeta up from The Zahhak’s and walk past the apartments to a thrift store on the other side of the road about a block down. You roughly estimate the size of Kurloz’s shirts and pants while you flick through the racks. Nepeta tries to help eagerly. Every few minutes she runs up to you and shows you a shirt, asking if Kurloz would like it. You’re sure that even though he would appreciate her effort, he would not like to wear a frilly pink shirt that has ruffled flowers sewn on it. Besides it was made to fit a five year old, no matter how bad the urge to stick him in it was. You end up buying a few plain shirts and two pairs of pants.

When you return to the apartment, Kurloz has moved some of Nepeta’s colouring books and was sitting at the kitchen table with a box of crayons. Nepeta giggles and runs up to join him without taking off her jacket and hat. You place the bags on the couch and pull off your coat.

“I brought you some clothes.” You begin. “I figured you wouldn’t like sitting in old dirty sweats all the time.” Kurloz looks up from the book, his eyes wide.

“Thank you.” He utters, sounding surprised.

“It’s no problem. Wanna come down to the laundry room while I wash them?” You offer after you grab the laundry basket from the bathroom.

“Okay.” He replied and stood.

“Don’t destroy the apartment, Nep. I’ll be back up in an hour.” You informed your sister. She nodded her head and continued to colour.

 

\--

 

“Hand me the softener?” You request as you put coins into the washer. Kurloz holds the box over your shoulder. You take it and fill the cap. While you pour the liquid in, you can still feel Kurloz's presence behind you. You replace the cap and turn the washer on, slamming the lid closed. Kurloz is leaning on the adjacent washer, staring calmly at you when you turn. He obviously has something on his mind, so you begin to sort the rest of the clothes until he talks.

"You didn't have to take me in..." he speaks after a moment. You look up at him from the shirt you're currently spot cleaning, straightening to meet his eyes.

"What would have happened to you if I didn't?" You hate to ask, but some things need to be answered sooner rather than later. Kurloz hesitates before he opens his mouth to speak.

"I'd be dead..." You stare at each other for a long time, not saying anything. You ask yourself again if you made the right decision to let an almost total stranger stay in your house. Again, you answer yourself. What else could you have done? Your eyes wander to his mouth, checking the marks where his injuries were. They were small now, but still had scabs. They should be completely healed within a couple weeks.

Kurloz worked his mouth in an awkward way, which made you look back up at him. His eyes were to the ground, staring at either his or your feet. You think he may be embarrassed about the marks, but when he looks up that is obviously not what is on his mind. Kurloz’s dark eyes meet yours and you can feel your neck grow hot. Oh wow, nice timing hormones. In the moment you thought that, there was a kind of magnetic pull. You could feel yourself getting closer. Kurloz slowly leaned down, about to match your height, when the buzzer for the washer went off.

You both break each other’s gaze to look at the infernal machine. You make a step to stand in front of it, but Kurloz takes your hand in his. You turn back to him, raising your eyebrows slightly in surprise. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. You inhale a deep, silent breath, keeping yourself calm while on the inside you had a spastic seizure of sorts.

He drops your hand and stood straight again. The blush on your face is very evident when you turn back to the washer. You begin to transfer Kurloz’s new clothes into the dryer.

“I cannot begin to display my gratitude. I figure I have to start somewhere.” You hear Kurloz state behind you while you load Nepeta’s clothes into the wash. You clear your throat before you reply.

“Great start.”

 


	8. Freeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anxiety of possibly bring two innocent people into the clutches of one of the most cruel gangs you've ever laid eyes on grips at your insides and doesn't let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while. My laptop broke and I lost half the chapter. Gomen.

8

 

 

 

You knew very well that if what Horruss said was true, you were in danger. You were not, however, going to turn Kurloz away. Thinking about what could happen if you tossed him to the streets makes you want to cry. You wouldn't put a friend through that, why would you let an almost stranger go through it? You continue to think about it as you try to wriggle Nepeta into her sweater while she stands on one of the kitchen chairs. You tell Kurloz have to take him and Nepeta with you to the bookstore for your shift, since Horuss cannot watch both. You remember what he told you when you texted him this morning.

 

_=uou= WHAT'CHA DOING TODAY?_

 

_Meulin 8:46 AM_

 

_8=D I planned a day with Rufioh. We're driving up to Gatlinburg._

 

_Horuss 8:49 AM_

 

You glared at your phone. Why didn't he tell you? Maybe he did and you weren't paying attention. You had shrugged it off and started to get ready for the day. You now successfully pull Nepeta's sweater on and motion for her to get off the chair. Kurloz came out of the bathroom, dressed in his new clothes. He grabs the jacket you had bought him that was hanging next to the fireplace and slid it onto his shoulders. You zip up your own and pull your beanie down over your ears. 

"Ready you two?" You ask as you walk to the door, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Nepeta nods quickly and grabs Kurloz's hand instead of yours. That kind of hurt, but you were glad to see that Nepeta trusts Kurloz. Something about children sensing bad people crosses your mind, but you shook your head and smile down at her. You lead them downstairs and out the apartment into the still snow-engulfed city. Instead of the snow melting like it usually does, it continued to snow periodically, adding onto the dirty snow piles on the sidewalks. Nepeta occasionally picked up a handful of snow and threw it at either the ground or cars or walls; she never threw any snow at you or Kurloz, which you were thankful for. Nepeta loyally held onto Kurloz's hand through the entire walk to the bookstore. You walk into the warm building and wave hello to Damara who is sulking behind the counter. 

"He's new." She greets lowly with her thick accent. Damara lazily flips through one of the new magazines that were delivered yesterday. You glance back at Kurloz who is being dragged into the children's section of the store. You turn back to Damara and blink at her, waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn't say anything more, but instead continued to flip through the magazine, you turn to where Nepeta and Kurloz sit across the store in the children's section. You walk to the children's section, unzipping your jacket, and place your bag down next to where Kurloz was sitting at the giant LEGO table. 

"Keep an eye on the bag. If Nepeta get's bored there's some crayons and a colouring book," You say as you pull out your work shirt and put it over the thin black sweater you wore. You playfully throw your jacket over Nepeta. She squeals quietly and flails about. You and Kurloz chuckle quietly at her antics. You wave as you walk behind the counter check the list the manager no doubt left for you. 

The day went by slowly. Despite the weather, you had a lot of customers, most of whom lingered in the heated building skimming through books they didn't want to buy. A few times your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you refused to check it. You were still a little miffed at Horuss for not telling you he was going out today, especially some place that was two hours away. You reorganized books that were misplaced, shelved new items, and cleaned up the children's section where toys had been flung about the previous day. Nepeta and Kurloz walked about the store, lounging at the tables in front of the coffee shop in the back or sitting in the children's section playing with LEGOs or reading small books together. 

You watch them carefully, mostly because you still didn't quite trust Kurloz yet. Kurloz could have been Nepeta's father to strangers who happened to look at them, and that made you ecstatic and also nervous. What if he walked out of the store with her when you weren't looking? The initial panic of that thought clutched at your foreign heart. You swallowed it down with a shot of espresso that Damara waved in front of your face when you returned to the counter. Kurloz never strayed far from Nepeta, nor did he try to lead her anywhere that Nepeta wasn't completely willing to go. When he went to look at the young adult's section, Nepeta followed eagerly. You occasionally peaked over and around the shelves to spy on them, mostly making sure that Nepeta was okay. With a short lunch break consisting of sandwiches from the small coffee shop inside the store, the day went by smoothly. At about four in the afternoon, you rounded up Nepeta and Kurloz and started heading back to the apartment. 

"See you tomorrow, Damara," You said to the girl behind the counter who was still flipping through various magazines. You briefly wonder for about the millionth time since you started working at the bookstore if she does all her work before and after you leave. The walk back was quiet. Nepeta held onto both yours and Kurloz's hand as she stomped in the dirty snow as she walked. You think she enjoyed watching it splatter around. The cars roll past the three of you, carefully driving on the black ice.

 

\--

 

She didn't trust you, and you knew it. You could see her peeking around corners, not keeping Nepeta out of her sight. You're not offended, because she has a right to be nervous around you. You are almost a complete stranger after all. It was a miracle she decided to take you in. It's also a miracle that Nepeta likes you, considering your face is fucked up right now. You figured she'd be scared of you, but she's calmly sitting next you and trying to read over your shoulder as you read to her. Your mouth still hurts as it tries to form the simple words within the thick glossy pages. The pain is a constant reminder of what you might have to go back home to. 

You shove the thoughts from your mind and keep reading to Nepeta. This sweet innocent child makes you feel like nothing could go wrong, when you very well know that isn't the case. Your brother will come hunting for you when he figures out you aren't dead. That means that Meulin and her sister are in extreme danger. You know you have to leave as soon as possible. You just have to figure out where you're going to go. The only person you can think of right now is Mituna, yet you haven't seen him in years. You're not even sure if he's still alive, let alone still in the city. You think of breaking into the squat and stealing your brother's stash of money and running, but no doubt the place is heavily guarded by Subjuggulators. 

The anxiety of possibly bring two innocent people into the clutches of one of the most cruel gangs you've ever laid eyes on grips at your insides and doesn't let go. The majority of your mind power is going into planning your inevitable escape. Yet, you kind of don't want to go. Meulin is so kind and understanding. You're drawn to her like a moth to a porch light. You stay quiet most of the time, not wanting to act too awkward around her. She slinks around you calmly and elegantly most of the time, doting on Nepeta and cleaning and typing. She talks on the phone a lot, you noticed, mostly in a hushed tone. She stares out her bedroom window while she talks to whoever is on the other line. You sometimes hear your name, but you don't ask. 

Somehow you drifted back to the apartment while you were swimming in your own thoughts. Meulin unlocks the door and let's you and Nepeta in. Nepeta immediately runs to the bathroom and shuts the door, leaving you and Meulin in the living room. You watch her from the couch bustle about and prepare to make dinner. You offer to help her, but she declines kindly. Meulin returns to the stove. Whatever she's cooking it makes your mouth water. Nepeta sits on the floor in front of the fireplace and plays with a couple of handmade dolls. You're really grateful that Nepeta is a quiet child, and it's really hard to not get attached to her. It's also hard not to get attached to Meulin. Her voice soft and enticing, just like her hair. Her eyes welcome you every time they glance your way. You mentally shake those thoughts out of your head when you hear her cell phone ring from her pocket. 

"Hello?" Meulin says as she stirs a pot of something. "Yes, this is she." A pause. "Okay. . ." A moment passes and Meulin freezes. You see her turn rigid and she stops stirring the pot. You think she's stopped breathing. 

"When were they found?" Meulin asks in a low voice. You realize Nepeta's stopped playing with her dolls, and now she stares at Meulin's back curiously. You hear a solemn voice on the other line speak, but you don't understand a word. "I'll be there in an hour. Thank you, Doctor." She finishes and hangs up. She turns the stove off and starts to dial another number. 

"Keep Nepeta busy." She says to you as she walks into her room and shuts the door.

 

\--

 

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. 

"My name is Doctor Scratch. I have some disturbing news for you." 

"Okay. . ." You say skeptically. 

"Two bodies were found on a beach in Crete. They were identified and sent here for autopsy. We have reason to believe you may have a connection to them." Your heart gives a hard squeeze and your stomach drops at the same time. You stop stirring the stew and listen to the doctor's words carefully. "Would you come and please verify that you know them?" 

You agree and quickly hang up after. You turn the stove off and being to dial Mrs. Zahhak's number.

"Keep an eye on Nepeta." You say to Kurloz quickly and scurry into your room.

 


	9. Subzero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're a liar! You're abandoning me and Nepeta! We never meant anything to you!"

9

 

 

 

Your hands grip the steering wheel of Mrs. Zahhak's car nervously. You glace over at Kurloz who is sitting in the passenger seat. You didn't want him to be out of your sight right now. Not at this vulnerable time when you can't have Horuss by your side. The stoplight turns green and you accelerate quickly, making you and Kurloz jolt back in your seats. The car ride to the hospital is quiet, and is only adding to your anxiety. You think about calling Horuss, but dismiss it. He probably won't like being disturbed while he's on his trip with Rufioh.

"Are you going to be okay?" Kurloz asks. You swallow and nod nervously, clearly lying. Honestly you didn't know what to expect when you got to the hospital. Your head was swimming with the possibility of seeing your parents again for the last time. Your donated heart feels like it's going to crawl up your throat and escape into the night. You check the time and see it's almost five thirty. You hope Mrs. Zahhak is keeping Nepeta busy until she falls asleep. You don't want Nepeta worrying about something like this. You refused to tell her what was going on, at least for now. You had told her that you were going to visit an old friend and gave her a look that clearly said not to ask any more questions. Thank whatever being that is ruling the universe at this time.

You can see Kurloz giving you a concerned look out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll be fine, Kurloz." You manage to choke out. Kurloz turns and looks out at the passing evening. The sky is pink, giving the snow and trees a faint and ominous glow. You turn on the headlights to their lowest setting and turn the blinker on to get off the highway. Trying to distract yourself, you speak to Kurloz again. "So, do you know when you're going to leave?"

"Soon, most likely. I'm trying to think of who I can stay with. I don't have a lot of options." Kurloz sighs and looks out the windshield. "I feel like I should thank you for every moment I get to stay with you." You blush slightly, convincing yourself that he means giving him a place to stay while he gets back on his feet.

"You haven't told me much about your home life. I only hear what other people say," You hint at what Horuss and his dad told you. You see Kurloz take a deep breath.

"There isn't much to say. My older brother's a jerkass, and my younger one is the only one I can trust." You mentally count each of those words that composed the longest sentence he's said to you so far. You prepare yourself for the next question, looking over at him briefly.

"Did your older brother do that to you?" You feel like you don't have to specify what you mean. Kurloz pauses, the noise of traffic filling the air as you speed through the evening.

"Partly. He had help." Kurloz admits. Something cold churns in your stomach and you swallow it down. You say nothing else as you near the hospital. Your anxiety spikes big time as you try to find a parking spot in the large lot. When you turn off the car, you pause for a moment and take a last look at the setting sun. Kurloz reaches over and touches your shoulder gently. You look over to him with a sad look in your eyes, and he stares sympathetically back. "Tell me about your parents."

You scavenge in your brain for details about your parents. The most recent one being their last phone call to you.

 

_"Why aren't you coming back mom? I need you."_

_"Honey, I told you. We can't. It's too dangerous."_

_"You're a liar! You're abandoning me and Nepeta! We never meant anything to you!"_

_  
_You wince at the unwanted memory. You look down at your lap and Kurloz let's go of your shoulder.

"My mother was very dedicated to my father. He was very philosophical. They were gone a lot, and one day they never came back." You manage to say as you and him sit in the unnerving silence of the parking lot. The last inches of the sun disappeared behind the trees, leaving you both in a solemn filled twilight. Kurloz said nothing in reply and you slowly reached to open the door.

You step out into the bitter cold. The wind whips your hair into your face as you shut the door. On the other side of the car, Kurloz steps out, towering over the compact car. You both walk briskly up to the entrance to get out of the cold that was steadily dropping down into the single digits. When you enter into the front lobby, it is surprisingly calm for this time of year. Usually there are people who have aggressive shopping injuries or fingers and hands sliced open with electric knives. You walk to the front desk and ask to see Dr. Scratch. The receptionists asks you for your name and you tell her, your nervousness peeking out in your shaking voice. The receptionist pages Scratch and tells you to wait.

You sit down on one of the supposedly comfortable waiting room chairs and pull your knees up to your chest. Kurloz slumps in the chair on your left with a sigh. The silence between you and him is thick and filled with unsaid words and emotions. The clock in the lobby ticks away fifteen minutes before a man steps out of the elevator. This man is almost as short as you with snow-white hair, pale grey eyes, and a face littered with laugh lines.

"Miss Leijon?" The man says with an kind but intimidating voice. You stand and nod, reaching out your hand instinctively. He reaches out and shakes it firmly.  
 "I'm Dr. Scratch, head of the autopsy department. I'm glad you came. We've been in a frenzy trying to identify the closest relative to these people. Keep in mind, there is a chance they are of no relation to you. Follow me." And he was off back into the elevator. You and Kurloz scuttle after him, barely making it before the door closes.

"I believe I didn't ask your name, young man." Scratch states as the elevator descends one floor.

"I'm Kurloz. I'm a friend." Kurloz responds as the doors open. The room is cold, not as cold as it is outside, but definitely close. Suddenly you flash back to the last winter.

 

_"Merry Christmas, dad."_

_"Not now honey. I don't have time for presents. I have to go to work."_

_"Merry Christmas, mom..."_

_"Meulin, I told you not to spend money on frivolous things. We don't have time for this."_

_"Merry Christmas, Nepeta..."_

_  
_You fight back tears as Scratch leads you through the morgue. Scratch stops and pulls out his keys. He says something to you, but your heart is pounding in your ears, your eyes focused on the two hatches he was unlocking. You feel Kurloz grab your hand gently and give it a squeeze. You clutch it gratefully, as it calms you down slightly. What are the chances? They're probably partying in Jamaica. Scratch pulls the racks and your breath hitches.

Staring you in the face was a mirror image of you in twenty years. Laying next to her was a face you'd almost forgotten. Suddenly, there was ice in your bones. Your tears frozen in your eyes made no attempt to fall. The only part of you that was warm was your hand that was encased in Kurloz's.

 

\--

 

"We're going." Meulin says to you as she grabs Nepeta's coat from the kitchen chair.

"Where?" Nepeta asks as she shrugs on her coat.

"You're going to stay with Mrs. Zahhak for a bit. Me and Kurloz are going to go visit an old friend." She replies with a stern look. She grabs her bag and coat as you pull on your jacket. The walk to Mrs. Zahhak's apartment is surprisingly short, partially because Meulin is rushing. You pull your hood up to prevent the breeze from entering your jacket as you cross the street. Meulin stops at a building and pushes in, going straight to the elevator with Nepeta in tow. You almost have to jog to keep up with her. The elevator climbs all the way to the top and the doors squeak open. Meulin walks to the last door and raps on the door, not waiting for someone to open it for her, and opens the door.

You follow her inside and hover by the door. You watch Nepeta watch TV while Meulin walks into the kitchen area. You hear the hushed voices even though there is a wall separating the two rooms.

"I need to borrow your car, Miranda."

"Whatever for?"

"I got called to come into the hospital."

"What!?"

"Shh. They want me to identify two bodies they found."

"Oh, Meulin..."

"Can I take it?"

"Of course. I don't need it tomorrow if you want to keep it for the night."

"Thank you Miranda. I'll have it back by then." Meulin walks out and grabs a set of keys from the key bowl next to the kitchen door. "Nepeta, be good for Mrs. Zahhak."

"Mmkay!" Meulin walks over and kisses the top of Nepeta's head. You descend down to the parking garage and walk through the maze of cars. Miranda's car is a small compact that's most likely older than Nepeta. The inside smelled like cinnamon and it made your nose twitch. You don't have time to wonder if Meulin even has her license as she rips through the parking garage and out into the bitter evening air. You watch her grow more anxious the closer you get to the hospital. She explains the situation to you in a quiet voice, though she didn't need to. You heard everything she said to Miranda.

Meulin turns onto the highway with a quick jerk. Your concern for her greatens as she barrels down the highway. You try to speak to her, but her quivering voice shuts you up. You feel your brow crease with worry. Meulin asks you something and it takes a minute for you to process. Your answer was vague, but you don't think she noticed. She probably wanted a distraction. You proceed to enter a different conversation, trying to keep her calm. A few sentences pass and you both are quiet as you pull into the hospital parking lot. The car is stopping, and Meulin gazes out of the windshield. The look in her eyes is dead, and you reach out to touch her shoulder in comfort.

"Tell me about your parents," You eventually say, and immediately regret it when a look of utter pain enters Meulin's beautiful face.  _Shit, Kurloz, what's wrong with you?_ You let go of her shoulder in disgust at yourself. Of course her parents would be a touchy topic, why didn't you realize sooner. She lives alone with her baby sister for Christ's sake, and the only parental figure you've seen since you landed on her doorstep wasn't even hers. What she told you only made it worse. 

You didn't speak again until you had to introduce yourself to this creepy short doctor. His name also wigs you out. Scratch. It reminds you of the Devil and Daniel Webster for some reason. The elevator ride down to the basement didn't help either. Down in the morgue it was colder than it was outside. You shiver slightly as Scratch leads you to the back of the room. Meulin looks like she's about to float up to the ceiling as Scratch reaches for his keys to unlock the body vaults. You grab her hand to keep her on earth and give it a little squeeze.  _I'm here._

What you saw almost made you throw up. The woman, blue with death, was an older exact replica of Meulin, the man sharing a few features as well. Your stomach drops, and Meulin's hand goes limp in yours. You scan her face, looking for her reaction, but her face was stone. You look down at Scratch, who was examining Meulin as well and nodding to himself.

"You know them." It wasn't a question, because Scratch knew. You knew. You pray to whatever God is left in this universe that Meulin will be okay.

 


	10. Your name is Nepeta.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes you swear when bad stuff happens, but even then it's not okay."

10

 

 

 

"She's too young to understand."

"You have to tell her eventually."

"Horuss, what am I supposed to say? That her parents would rather drown than raise their children?"

"Meulin, it's not like that."

"Miranda, how could you possibly know? You're a better mother to me and her than my mom!"

"Meulin, calm down."

"I can't. I'm being forced to organize a funeral for people who didn't do shit for me!"

"Lower your voice, and watch your mouth."

"What are you going to do, bounce me out of the house?"

"We're not talking about my side job, we're talking about what you need to do."

"Why can't I just dump them back into the ocean where they belong?"

"Meulin!"

"I'm done discussing this. I'll let them rot. The hospital can deal with them."

"Mew Mew..."

"Don't call me that right now, Horuss."

"We have to talk about this. Come back!"

"Kurloz, we're leaving. Nepeta, grab your jacket."

"We're not done discussing this!"

"I'm done."

"Nepeta, come on."

"Meulin!"

 

\--

 

"Kurloz, I don't know what to do..."

"I can't help you. You know that. "

"Nepeta, get off the counter."

"Yes ma’am."

"You can't just drop it."

"I'm going to."

"Meulin..."

"Don't- Hold on. Hello? No. I'm not going to. It's a long story, Doctor-"

"Meulin."

"Kurloz, hush. Yes, I'm still here. Okay. Okay. . . . Fine, I'll think about it. Bye."

"See?"

"I really don't need this from you. I'm sorry. Will you watch Nepeta while I work?"

"Of course."

"I'll be back at nine. Be in bed by then, okay little lion?"

"Okay, Mew."

 

\--

 

"Kurloz?"

"You're getting better at saying my name. What's up, Nep?"

"What were you and mister and misses Zahhak and Horuss and Meulin talking about yesterday?"

"Nothing important."

"Meulin was upset..."

"She was just a little stressed about work. No big deal."

"She swore. She never swears. She told me swearing was bad."

"Sometimes you swear when bad stuff happens, but even then it's not okay." 

"What happened?" 

"Grown-up stuff."

"I'm a grown-up!"

"Please, you don't even reach my hips!"

"Can to!"

"Cannot!"

"Can to!" 

"Nu-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

"Stand up. Get off your tiptoes! Come on, I'll get you an ice cream from the freezer."

"Thank you, Kurloz!"

 

\--

 

"Miranda? Yeah... I'll do it, but Nepeta's not coming... I'll hire a baby sitter... I want Kurloz to be there... Because, I've already told him everything... He's a friend... he's not like that, Mir-... I told you-.... He's coming. If I have to do this, I'm doing it my way. I am an adult... I know that... Put Horuss on the phone please... Yeah... I know... Nepeta, go back to bed... Yeah, she's..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day. I'll be gone for a while, but not on hiatus. Enjoy!


	11. If I have to go I'm taking someone with me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least you won't be alone.

11

 

 

 

_You step slowly down the stairs, your dress fluttering around your legs. The early morning light shines in through every window in the house. You can hear loud typing from the study down the hall. It's most likely you're father, trying to convince somebody to listen to his beliefs. Your mother is most likely out, in a meeting or driving to Atlanta for a showcase. The rest of the house is empty. You walk into the study and see your father, typing with one hand and cradling Nepeta with the other. He looks up and smiles warmly at you when you enter._

\--

_"We don't have time for this, Simon."_

_"Daliane, listen-"_

_"No! We have one opportunity to make this happen. We take it or years of work go down the drain. I thought you wanted this!"_

_"I do want this. I really do, but-"_

_"But what?"_

_"We have the kids to think about. Meulin can take care of herself, but with Nepeta too? We don't have anyone who can take them."_

_"Meulin will be fine. She won't let anything happen to Nepeta. I trust her."_

_"Does she trust us? We haven't exactly been a stable figure in her life."_

_"Simon..."_

\--

_"Meulin come here." You did. Dad pulls you into his lap next to Nepeta. "One day, all the work we put into saving the world will take us places. Places you can't imagine. I want you to be prepared. I want you to be careful with all the responsibility you will receive when that time comes."_

_"Okay, dad."_

_"You're growing up, Meulin. I'm so proud of you."_

\--

  
You wake up slowly. The light filtering through your window is bright as it hits your face, giving you a welcome feeling of warmth. You sit up and push your hair back from your eyes, resting your forehead in your palm. All the stress from the past couple of days crashes down on you and causes you to close your eyes in pain. The stress headache comes full force. Good Morning, Meulin. For breakfast, unwanted feelings coupled with splitting headache. You slide out of your bed and walk into the kitchen. Kurloz is already up and has a bowl of cereal in his hand. He holds it out to you and you take it gratefully.

"Nepeta up yet?" He shakes his head and pours himself a bowl. You lean against the counter while you eat. Today you have to watch as your parents are put in the ground. Ice begins to tease the edges of your heart while you chew.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Kurloz asks, watching you carefully over his bowl. You sigh and look up at the ceiling, forgetting your food for a moment. Slowly you shake your head. You're closer to Kurloz than you thought you'd ever be. He's been with you through this whole experience, listening to you and comforting you. He knows more about what you're feeling right now than Horuss. Kurloz sets down his bowl and grabs yours from your hands. You let it slide from your fingertips as you continue to stare at the ceiling.

Kurloz then wraps his arms around your shoulders. You circle your arms around his waist and nuzzle into his chest to breathe him in, enjoying his strong scent that reminds you of a bon fire. You feel him bury his nose in your hair. The sense of comfort you get with his arms around you is almost overwhelming. The late night conversations you've had with him recently flash through your mind. With each passing word you begin to feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"I don't want to do this. Not right now. Not so close to Christmas." You say, your voice muffled by his chest.

"I know, Meulin. I know." Kurloz murmurs softly and squeezes you in his arms. You stand there in the warm light filtering in through the kitchen window, wrapped in each other’s arms. The soft crackle of the fireplace almost lulls you back to sleep, but another sound made you alert again. From Nepeta's room, you could hear her scramble out of bed and pat across the floor. Kurloz pries himself from you and looks over at Nepeta as she shuffles out of her room.

"Good morning, little lion. Are you ready to go to Porrim's?" You ask her with a smile and pick her up, resting her on your hip as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She nods slowly and rests her head against your shoulder. You slide her from your hip and onto one of the kitchen chairs and fix her hair a little bit. Kurloz already has a bowl out and the cereal open again, so you walk into Nepeta's room and start packing her bag for today. You pick out a two pairs of clothes and a nightgown and pack them into an overnight back, leaving one pair of clothes for her to put on. You go to her toy chest and throw a couple in along with a few colouring books. You walk into the bathroom and put her favourite shampoo in the bag and set the bag on the shelf above the toilet. You walk out and see that Nepeta's almost done with her cereal.

"Brush your teeth and get dressed when you're done, okay?" Nepeta nods, as her mouth is full, and keeps chewing. You walk into your room and pick up your cell phone from the bedside table. You have a couple of text messages and a voicemail.

 

_I'll be o+ver at abo+ut nine_

_Porrim 8:03 AM_

_8=D I'll pick you and Kurloz up at ten. Be ready._

_Horuss 8:17 AM_

 

  
You text Horuss and Porrim back and dial the number for your voicemail, putting the phone to your ear.

"Good morning, Meulin. It's Miranda. I hope you're okay. I know this is really hard for you, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't be forcing you to do this. You don't have to come if you don't want to. I love you, Meulin." The automated voice on the line told you that the message was made at 8:20. While you wait for Horuss' response, you begin to look for your outfit for today.

You pull out every black piece of clothing you own and lay them out on your bed. You stare passively at the sea of black over your olive green sheets. You cannot help the uncomfortable grimace as you pick up one of the shirts. Your phone vibrates and you drop the shirt back on the bed to check it.

 

_8=D Are you even going to come?_

_Horuss 8:49 AM_

_=(v.v=) OF COURSE I'M COMING._

_Meulin 8:50 AM_

 

  
You look at the black mass on your bed and sigh. You aimlessly shuffle the pile about your bed, picking up a random shirt or skirt here and there and observing it before eventually tossing it back. A moment later, you hear a confident knock at your door. You walk out of your room and go to open the door. Standing in the hallway was Porrim, you're second oldest friend next to Horuss. She stands poised and proud, face full of piercings, light brown hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Her black fur-lined trench coat was pulled tight around her curvy form. She smiles warmly at you and steps into the apartment.

"Where is the little lion?" She says, pulling her hands out of her pockets. Nepeta runs out of her room and jumps into Porrim's arms. "Oh, you've gotten so big!" She says, voice straining as she picks Nepeta up. You smile and excuse yourself to finish packing Nepeta's bag. You go into the bathroom and pack her toothbrush and hairbrush, zipping the back closed and slinging it over your shoulder.

"I've packed her clothes, a couple toys and colouring books, and her toiletries." You say as you hand Porrim the bag. She pulls it over shoulder and adjusts Nepeta on her hip. She pauses and grasps your shoulder, giving you a sad look.

"You gonna be okay?" She asks. You know she means well, but you wish people would stop asking you this. You nod and cover her hand with yours. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Nepeta. Be good for Porrim okay?"

"Okay, Meurin!" Nepeta beams at you. She jumps down from Porrim's arms and hugs your legs. You squat down and squeeze her small form tightly, listening to her giggle. When you stand, Porrim holds out her hand for Nepeta to grab and turns towards the door. Nepeta grasps it and walks into the hallway with her. Porrim waves goodbye as you close the door. You lean on the closed door and take a deep breath. Kurloz steps out of Nepeta's room and walks forward to stand in front of you. You briefly wonder why he was in there, then you probably figure he was helping Nepeta get ready or something. He opens his arms and you walk into them gratefully, breathing in his smoky scent.

"You don't have to go. You can stay here." He whispers, hugging you tightly. You really want to stay here, wrapped in Kurloz's arms, but you must. You have to see them one last time before they're cremated.

"I have to go. They're my parents. I haven't seen them in years, and I almost forgot what they looked like." You say quietly, pushing yourself away. Kurloz follows you into your room and eyes the black mass on your bed. "I'm not wearing any of that, however." You go into your closet and pull out a long, pale green dress and toss it on top of the pile on your bed. Next, you pull out a thick white cardigan, tossing it alongside the dress. Kurloz raises one of his dark eyebrows slightly at your choice, but shrugs and leaves you so that you can change, shutting the door behind him.

You change slowly, examining your body in the mirror as you do. Your skin, slightly tan and smooth, has no glow as it usually does. Your dark, long curls were dull as they cascade around your bare shoulders. When you step closer and observe your green eyes, you say that they too held no life. The image did weird things to your stomach. You turn to your bed and slide into the dress. It feels silky on your skin. It's looser than you remember it being, probably because of loosing weight because you normally don't have time to eat lately. You pull on the cardigan and tie it closed. The colour looks nice on you, bringing some life back to your dull skin. You pull on a pair of brown boots and open your bedroom door.

Kurloz stands at the kitchen window, gazing out at the sky. You notice it started to snow again. Walking up to him slowly, you wonder idly when the snow will be done with this town. You wrap your arms around Kurloz's waist and hug him from behind. He stiffens slightly before relaxing. He's still not used to being touched without it hurting. You muse on that thought for a moment before you pull back. He turns, leaning against the counter, and you take a look at what he's wearing and smile. White t-shirt and blue jeans. At least you won't be alone.

 

\--

 

_Your dad hugs you until you almost can't breathe, but your mother doesn't even touch you. She stands in the doorway with her back towards you. You can see that her hand is touching her face. You ponder going up to her and asking for a hug, but you don't. Your dad picks Nepeta up from the floor and hugs her, kissing her cheek. You continue to stare at your mother, eyes burning holes in her back. You glance at the car at the end of the driveway, wondering where all those suitcases came from._

_Your dad looks at you for the last time._

_"Take care of Nepeta okay? I love you so much, Meulin."_

_"I love you too, dad." One last hug and kiss goodbye and your dad is out the door and into the car, yet your mother stays in the doorway. You work up the nerve to go up to her, but then she bolts without a word. You see her wipe her face before she disappears into the car. With the windows being tinted, you can't see her face. You think she was crying, but you brush that thought away. Why would someone who only held you to breastfeed be crying about leaving you for two weeks?_

 


	12. Cloud of Unknowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon Vantas Diliane Leijon
> 
> A loving couple only wanting 
> 
> the best thing for their children.
> 
> July 1,1977 August 19, 1976
> 
> December 20, 2012

12

 

 

 

Everything flew past you. Minutes, hours, days, the healing of your injuries, conversations, plans, people. Nepeta was passed around from you and Meulin, to the Zahhak's, once to this guy named Rufioh, and now Porrim. You carefully watch Meulin as the two days that went by since the hospital crawl by, feeling like it's been almost a year. You stay up with her. Comforting her, sharing stories about your past. She fell asleep in your arms the night you came back from the hospital. She cried until she fell asleep. You held her, petted her hair, and whispered any comforting words you could find into her ear. 

The morning of the service, you noticed her appearance. She looked like a doll; beautiful and lifeless. The slink in her step was not there, her halo-ish glow vanished, and her forest green eyes no longer shone like emeralds. Each time she came into your arms, you handled her like a delicate egg because she looked like she may shatter at the slightest touch. The one thing that hadn't changed was her scent. Mint and coffee. You don't even like coffee, but you would drink it forever if you want to be reminded of her. 

When you feel her wrap her arms around your waist, you tense instinctively, but her scent envelopes you soon after and you calm. Her and the snow put you at ease, if only for a moment. When you turn and look at her, electricity surges through you. Standing in front of you was almost the same girl that saved you from your grave. The normal black outfit would have further influence her current demeanor, but the green dress gave her colour back slightly, making her look more alive than she probably felt. When she smiles at you, more life seems to spark into her eyes.

"Heavenly," You say, absentmindedly tucking Meulin's hair behind her ear. You see slight colour rise to her face as she looks down at your feet. You feel a small smile creep onto your face, but it soon disappears as you see Meulin's expression grow dark again. You bend down and press your lips to her forehead lightly. She sighs, sounding relieved. Your stomach does this weird, backflip thing when she reaches up and rests her hands on your chest. You look down at her as she looks up and you stare softly into her eyes as she stares back, soft green eyes making you melt where you stand as if it wasn't winter outside.

You tuck your fingers under her chin, tilting her head up. You place a small peck on the tip of her nose, reveling in the sound of her small laugh, and then suddenly she leans up and her lips meet your own, warm and gentle like the rest of her. You close your eyes and breathe deep, tangling your fingers in her mass of hair. Your lips move softly against hers, comfortable and right. The crackle of the fire and the silence of the snow engulfs you both in a curing embrace. You feel a slow warmth grow from within your heart, and you sigh into the kiss. 

Meulin pulls away, the palest of rose gracing her cheeks. She steps back, her hands sliding down your chest slightly. Your hands are still in her hair, feeling the soft curls around your fingers. Her face suddenly turns serious as she remembers today's plans. You pull her back to you, hugging her gently as you've done for the last two days.

"Horuss will be here in forty minutes," Meulin mumbles into your chest. 

"You still have time to change your mind." She shakes her head, silky hair tickling the stubble on your chin. You don't believe how far you two have come. It almost feels like a nightmare gone terribly right. You haven't had time to think about what home would be like now. You almost don't have time to worry about Gamzee, but as you and Meulin huddle on the couch being warmed by each other's body heat, all the concern comes at once. He let you escape; he must have been in for a world of hurt. Your brother wouldn't have killed him. He's always seen Gamzee as the valuable one, the one that wouldn't be easy to replace. With you out of the picture, Hakuna would be free to mold him into whatever he wants. The thought unsettles you greatly.

Twice before, he's almost beaten Gamzee to the point where he couldn't walk. Twice before you were there to stop him. Hakuna in a cocaine-fueled rage almost cannot be stopped. You almost always sneak away with Gamzee when you see the needles or bags come out. The only reason you stay wrapped up in the Subjuggulators is because you're deathly afraid of your brother and what he can do. He controls nearly half of Chattanooga and all of East Lake, a nearly infinite supply of the most loyal underdogs cocaine and weed can buy, and power. You refuse to think about how much power this man has. The vaguest thoughts of his capability frighten you.

You know that Meulin and Nepeta are only getting more into danger with every second you spend with them, but dare you leave Meulin in her time of need? Absolutely not. 

 

\--

 

You almost doze as you lay your head on Kurloz's chest. With his arms around you, you obtain the safest feeling you've ever had. The thought sounds cliché in your head, but you don't care. The knock at the door makes you jolt at the sudden noise. You and Kurloz both look at the door with blank expressions. You stand and go to open the door for Horuss. When you do, you're almost shocked. Though his pants are black, he's not wearing a black shirt. He's wearing a white shirt and green tie. You smile and feel tears swim in your eyes. He knew. Horuss opens his arms and you fall into them, hugging him tightly. You'd rather not ask questions; an occurrence like this happens once and you don't want to spoil it. Horuss kisses the top of your head and smiles down at you.

"I figured you wouldn't wear black." Horuss says and ruffles the collar of your cardigan. Kurloz moves to stand next to you and Horuss gives him an approving smile. You lock up the apartment and the three of you clamber downstairs and into Horuss' car. In the back with Kurloz, Equius looks out of character in khakis and an olive green polo. You begin to notice the colour pattern and give Horuss a questioning stare as he starts the car.

"Mom's idea. You look best in green."  _So Miranda was always on my side._ You think as you stare out the windshield. Snow steadily piles on the hood of the car as Horuss slowly makes his way through Saturday traffic. The windshield wipers put you in a peaceful trance, like a metronome, as the heavy snow cushions all the downtown noise. The ten-minute drive to the funeral home is quiet and calm. It isn't until you actually pull into the parking lot of the home that the mass of emotions starts to show itself. You feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest as you exit the car, grabbing Kurloz's hand as you walk up the steps into the warm building. The funeral director guides you into the room where your parent's closed caskets sit. Apparently not even the best carcass cosmetologist couldn't make drowning look pretty.

There are no flowers, you notice as you walk into the room, and everyone is wearing green. The Zahhak's, Rufioh, a couple other friends from your school, your cousin Kankri Vantas, and Nepeta's pre-k teacher Feferi all in olive. You felt your eyes begin to water and you quickly blink to try and stop the tears. So much support from people who normally would stand by. You identify everyone in attendance as they come up to you with condolences and hugs. The first up is Rufioh, his sinewy arms firmly squeezing the air out of you, and then it's Porrim's little sister Kanaya who, regardless of her age, towers over you. He figure is like a model's, and she certainly looks like one with her pixie cut black hair.

"I'm sorry, Meulin. I know it's hard to do something like this," Kanaya speaks in an eloquent and gentle voice. You would think she's in her twenties, but she's only a freshman like Equius. You thank her for coming and she steps aside for Kankri. Twenty-something, tall, skinny, and annoying but he's the only relative you have left. He places both his hands on your shoulders and gives a gentle squeeze.

"In no way did I think this would happen. I always thought they were still in Europe making a difference. I know you always thought badly of what they chose to do, and no offense, but they were doing what was best for us. Rather they tried. I know it's hard to hear this now but I don't know when else to say this. We're all that's left and we have to discuss things like this. We will definitely talk more about this later. I just want you to know I'm here for you. Even though you can't live with me, I always want you to know that I have your back. You don't always have to depend on your friends when you at least have one family member left." The long-winded speech gives you a slight headache and before you get the chance to say anything, the blonde boy vanishes behind you and is replaced with Mituna. Your heart gives a little tug for this old friend. Handicapped by a mugger, Mituna was never the same, but he still remains friends with you. Occasionally popping up for a short visit or phone call. You sometimes have trouble understanding him, but you always make time to listen to him. 

"Itth goods to thee you. I-i'm thzorry about your parenthth." He slowly says, making sure to pronounce every word as best he can. Now you can't help the tears that come. You reach out for a hug and he gladly steps into your arms, loosely draping his arms around your shoulders. Miranda guides Mituna away and Mr. Zahhak comes forth, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He says no words, but his ink coloured eyebrows are turned up in sympathy. 

"Darren, I'll be fine."

"We always worry about you."

"I know." Mr. Zahhak steps aside, gathering everybody around the two caskets. Equius briefly nods to you, the kid barely speaks a word to you ever so you don't mind, and stands beside his family. Everyone makes room for you and you feel Kurloz at your side at last. You feel the need to introduce him.

"Uhm, guys. This is my friend Kurloz. He's staying with me until he can go home." You say vaguely and gesture to him. Kanaya steps forward and shakes his hand elegantly as she introduces herself. Mituna nods apprehensively at him as Rufioh steps forward after Kanaya, grasping his hand firmly. The next hour is full of soft chatter. You catch up with your friends as Miranda bustles about being motherly and catering to the few attendees. The burial begins at noon. The caskets are driven to the cemetery next to the river, a line of cars following the limousine carrying your parents. You ride with Miranda and Darren, Kurloz sitting with you in the back. You hold his hand and lean your head on his shoulder. Occasionally you see the two adults peek back at you two and smile. You focus and Kurloz's breathing, trying to match your own to his. When he breathes in, you breathe out.

The sight of the sparkling river in the bright winter sun is soothing as you drive along the edge, pulling into the browning grass field behind the limousine. Behind you are two cars carrying the rest of your friends. You clearly see Rufioh driving behind you, toting Kanaya and Mituna along in his truck. Horuss and Equius must be behind them. You carefully measure each breath as the car pulls to a stop.

 

\--

 

You help Meulin out of the car and look where the Zahhaks are standing. Two freshly dug graves are about twenty feet behind them. Everyone begins to gather and walk together as a group of black-clad men carry the caskets past you. Meulin clutches your and Horuss' hand like a life line as you walk. You see he look at the sky instead of down at the graves as they are lowered into the ground. Her parents together had one tombstone that you read carefully.

 

_Simon Vantas     Diliane Leijon_

 

_A loving couple only wanting_

_the best thing for their children._

 

_July 1,1977         August 19, 1976_

_December 20, 2012_

 

 _  
_If you had to guess, you figure either they weren't married or Diliane, Meulin's mom, never took her husband's name. You remind yourself to ask much later, possibly after Christmas seeing as it's only two days away. A random middle-aged man who you assume is a preacher or pastor or something appears out of thin air and begins a eulogy. As he speaks, you get a crawling sensation in your spine. You look around nervously, looking for someone who doesn't belong. In the distance behind a group of trees, you see Dartz. He's smirking at you and your stomach drops. They found you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters whose name I've changed
> 
> Miranda = Mindfang  
> Diliane = Disciple  
> Simon = Sufferer  
> Dartz = Dualscar  
> Darren = Darkleer


	13. Orphaner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You pull up Chrome and start idly browsing. Looking at the news and weather. It's only going to be snowing for a few more days, long enough for Christmas to get here, but not long enough for New Years. Checking the local news made your stomach churn. More gang violence from the Subjuggulators.

13

 

 

 

No one can tell you that a snitch ain't gonna snitch. You've been in this business for ten years and not once did a snitch not snitch. Too many shitheads wanna stop your plans but that ain't gonna happen because nothin' can stop The Highblood. This clown posse has gotten too far to be shut down. You guys ain't got nothin' to fear 'cause with you and Highblood paired up, the Subjuggulators are unstoppable. 

You sneer at Highblood's youngest brother as you walk into the back of the apartment. Gamzee's black eye is still there from last week, makin' him look like a zombie or somethin'. He hovers at the bottom of the stairs as you climb them quietly. Highblood had called you up to give you some news, and it sounded bad. His position on the couch shows that he is extremely pissed off. You try to remember everythin' you've done in the last day or two to make sure he wasn't angry with you when he barks.

"Motherfucker, we got a problem." He takes a drag of his cigarette and tosses it out the window. "My shit eatin' brother somehow weaseled his way into an old situation." Oh shit that's not good. You walk to stand in front of the coffee table and sit down in this hard ass chair. "You remember that preachy bitch and his whore we took out last week?"

"Of course I do. Cronus came back from Crete and said nobody'd find 'em."

"Well somebody did. They shipped 'em back here and their funeral is today." Highblood replies and starts to light another cigarette. You feel your mouth twist into a grimace. You know what's coming. "That girl who Kurloz is stayin' with is their daughter. Once she gets a hold of their shit she's gonna know and tell Kurloz."

"What'cha gonna have me do?" You ask, leaning your elbows on your knees. Highblood takes a swig of beer before inhaling a long drag of his menthol. 

"Watch 'em. See if Kurloz goes and rats us out. I don't care if he sees you, that'll just make him a lot funner to catch when he bolts."

"The girl?" 

"I'll take care of her."

 

\--

 

It takes you some snoopin' around to find out where those dead bitches were gettin' buried. You get close enough to see, but stay far enough away that most everybody doesn't notice you. Except Kurloz. He's starin' right at you. You laugh quietly and give a little wave, teasin' him. You can see he wants to come over and try to kick your ass, but that dark haired chick has got a grip on his hand. She's starin' down at the gave like it's the gateway to hell or somethin'. No one notices Kurloz glarin' at you. 

The ceremony takes like a fuckin' hour. You keep checkin' your watch, waitin' for it to end so you can follow that bitch home. You eye the other girl with the short black hair. She's gotta be like nineteen or twenty with that ass. You're kinda hopin' that she doesn't turn around so you can keep starin' at that booty. There's not much else to look at other than Kurloz and the girls. You briefly wonder if Kurloz got it in with that short girl he's hooked on. You doubt it 'cause the girl looks like a virgin. The thought makes your stomach tingle in excitement. 

You're surprised that she doesn't start blubberin' like a bitch when they start pillin' the dirt back into the hole. She stands perfectly still, like a mannequin or somethin'. You would totally walk up there, but there are like four beefy dudes standin' around and you don't feel like breakin' out your gun and causin' a scene. The graves are filled and people slowly start to leave. A Mexican, the chick with the nice ass, and some other awkward dude leave first. You start to get impatient as every damn person decides to say the longest goodbye that could probably give the dictionary a run for it's money. You want to get the two lovebirds alone, but one of the beefy dudes stays behind with them as everyone else leaves. He must be their ride. Kurloz looks back at you and you give him a nod, smirkin' at him. You head back to your car and wait for them to pull out of the cemetery.

You try to stay at least fifty feet back from their car as you follow them through the city. They're almost to the place where you dumped Kurloz a couple weeks ago when the stop in front of an apartment buildin' next to the theater. Kurloz and the girl get out of the car and you drive around the block and park at a meter. This is going to be fun.

 

\--

 

You and Kurloz stand in the elevator together, your head resting on his chest as his long arms circle you comfortably. You almost fall asleep, and you really want to. The elevator doors slide open to your floor and you both walk out slowly. Getting the door open was almost a challenge because you were suddenly so tired. It's like watching somebody get buried is the most exhausting thing you can experience. You toss your keys on the coffee table and sit down on the couch. You feel Kurloz sink down beside you and you gratefully slide back into his arms. His face nuzzles into your hair as you lay your head on his shoulder. The fire is not lit, and yet in Kurloz's arms you feel warm. You lay like that until you hear your phone ring.

"Hello?" You answer it after you pull it out of the pocket of your cardigan.

"Kanaya just got home, so I assume the service is over. Just checking up on you." Porrim's confident voice came from the speaker.

"I'm fine. I just got home."

"Make sure you eat. Kanaya said you looked thin." You sigh, but smile anyway.

"Kurloz will probably shove some food down my throat in a minute. He's noticed, too." You reply, leaning your head back to look at him. His eyebrow quirks and he nods in agreement. He starts to get up as you finish the call. "How's Nepeta?"

"She's fine. Her butt is firmly planted in front of the TV."

"I wish I could get her a TV. She gets so bored here. There are only a couple kids in the building." You sigh, watching Kurloz fumble about the kitchen. Porrim makes a noise, either out of agreement or a maybe. 

"Still saving?" 

"I had to use some of it to buy some extra stuff," By stuff you mean Kurloz's clothes. It wasn't any trouble, but it still made a minor dent. "I only have fifty dollars left to save, though."

"Well that's good," Porrim affirms. You notice Kurloz has stopped preparing to make food and is now staring out of the kitchen window down into the street. You adjust your spot on the couch and sit up, staring at the back of his head. His hands seem to be shaking. "Anyway, I'll let you get force fed. I hope you'll be okay."

"I'll be fine Porrim. See you tomorrow."

"Later." With a click she was gone, but Kurloz was still frozen in place. You get up from the couch and begin to walk towards him. You're almost looking down at the street where his eyes are glued when he turns to you, startled.

"Something wrong?" You ask, placing your hand on his bicep. He nods, but looks back out the window. Whatever he was looking at, it was gone now. He continues opening a can of soup and you sit down at the table in front of your laptop, giving him a concerned look. You pull up Chrome and start idly browsing. Looking at the news and weather. It's only going to be snowing for a few more days, long enough for Christmas to get here, but not long enough for New Years. Checking the local news made your stomach churn. More gang violence from the Subjuggulators. You close the window out of fear and pull up your schoolwork folder. Browsing through old papers and projects, you find your old presentation about heart transplants and start gagging at how awful it was. Awful colour scheme and awful font choice. You want to delete it, but you can't bring yourself to. It was Kurloz's first impression of you, most likely the first time he heard you name. Without that presentation, you wouldn't have been in that school seminar about organ donation.

Kurloz puts a bowl next to your keyboard and instantly your mouth waters. The soup is still burning hot as you spoon it into your mouth, sliding your laptop out of the way so you don't spill it. It hits your stomach and fills you with a comfortable and delicious warmth.

 

\--

 

 

"I remember that," You say with a smile, looking down at her laptop screen. You had been sitting in the back row of bleachers, trying to ignore the loud speakers trying to convince you to become an organ donor. Then, Meulin walked to the center of the gym. She held the microphone nervously, and began telling her story. Her defect almost killed her on several occasions, seven to be exact. The numerous surgeries at such a young age. She told of the brave parents whose kid died in an accident and agreed to let her have the heart. The slide currently on the laptop was the one where she began recollecting after she got her new heart. The slide had a picture of her scar, and her shaking the now-childless parent's hands. "It made me remember you."

Melulin smiles, taking another spoonful of soup into her mouth. You'll take any distraction from what you saw standing on the other side of the road. There's no way he found you, then again there he was at the funeral, and now most likely on his way up the building. It would take a bit of searching to get to the exact apartment, but once he found you there would be no running. You try to figure out how to tell her, but she looks so content sitting with you. Maybe you could convince her to go into a neighbor's apartment? Or down into the basement to get something? That would have to do.

"I think I left a shirt down in the basement," You stand to head for the door. Meulin stops you.

"I'll get it," She slurps down the rest of the soup and stands to put it in the sink. Shit. You don't want her to be seen, but you don't want to tell her that there is a member of your brother's gang coming into the building. She smiles reassuringly and before you have a chance to say no, she's out the door. You pray to whatever deity that Dartz doesn't get a hold of her.

 

\--

 

You hit the button on the elevator and the doors slide open. You press the button for the laundry room and lean against the back wall. You look at the condolence text you just received from Horuss and reply shortly. The elevator stops, but not in the basement. It stops at the lobby, letting on a really tall man on. He looks familiar, but you're pretty sure he doesn't live in this building. He stands at the opposite end of the elevator as the door closes. You continue to text Horuss and ignore the guy as the elevator drops one floor. When it stops and you go to exit, the man grabs your arm and holds you in. You let out a startled yelp as he pushes you back into the elevator. He holds the door close button and presses the top floor button. You get a better look at his face and recognize him as the guy that stopped you on your way to Horuss' one afternoon a couple weeks ago. Jesus Christ, what is going on?

"Hello, beautiful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took really long. Drafts aren't saving properly and I had to rewrite a lot of stuff because it got lost. I apologize in advance if chapters are slow coming. I'm having a lot of issues lately and been having trouble writing because my inspiration has been minimal.


	14. Purple Tyrant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your stomach voilently empties itself on the floor next to you, the amount of disgust you feel is unbearable, and you start to sob again. As your thoughts go through the process of worrying about Nepeta and Kurloz, your cries intensify. Your emotions go from fear and worry to rage and despair. How could Kurloz endanger you like this? If he supposedly knew what he was getting himself into, why did he do it? Was it all an act? Were his words of love and comfort all a lie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter depicts Rape/Noncon! It's not very descriptive but it's there. You have been warned.

14

 

 

The man shoves you hard against the elevator wall as it ascends to the top floor. You stare up at him trying to make sense of what is happening. He has two identical scars across his face, making him look menacing and rugged, his black hair slicked back greaser style, and his clothes wrinkled and well worn. His leather jacket reeked of weed and cigarettes. Before you could blink, his hand is around your neck and his body is pressing into you.

"As much as I'd like takin' you right now, I gotta wait for your boyfriend." You choke as he squeezes his hand around your windpipe, making you unable to cry out. The noise you made came out as a hoarse whisper. Fear squeezes your insides hard as tears start to well in your eyes. The elevator came to a slow stop, and when the doors open he holds onto your neck and drags you out. You stumble and would have fallen if the man weren’t holding you up. 

Suddenly, you felt a cold, thin blade press to your throat. 

"Make a noise, you bleed out," He says in a gruff whisper. "Open the door," He continues, pressing you against your apartment door. You swallow loudly and slowly reach for the handle. You silently pray that Kurloz somehow escaped down the fire escape. The man kicks the door open and it bangs softly against the wall. He pushes you in, holding onto your neck as he kicks the door shut. You open your mouth to call out to Kurloz but the man presses the blade into your neck painfully. He shushes you, pressing his nose into your hair. You feel him inhale deeply, obviously smelling you. He let's out a low groan and you feel your stomach crawl. 

"Oh Kurloz!" He calls, pressing your body to his. Kurloz bursts from your room with a crazed expression of fear mixed with rage. He tries to lurch forward but the man holding you pressing the knife harder against your throat, almost drawing blood. "Ah ah ah!" He taunts, pressing is face further into your hair. His hand slips slightly into your cardigan as he holds you tighter. 

"Let her go, Dartz." Kurloz warned as if he had the advantage. With his hair falling into his eyes he looked even more vulnerable and frightened. Your ragged breathing accompanies Dartz's dark chuckle. You want to scream and lash out, but not at the cost of your life, and definitely not at the cost of Kurloz's life either. 

"What makes you think I'm lettin' her go without a fight?" Dartz replies haughtily. "Highblood's got a bone to pick with you."

"That's old news. I'm not involved anymore!" 

"You're just as involved as ever." Dartz laughs, making your whole body shake with him. You're almost hyperventilating when Dartz presses the blade further into your neck. Your neck stings as the meal pierces the flesh slightly. "Save it for the bed, beautiful."

 

\--

 

That statement gets your full attention. Planning an escape was no longer viable. Dartz has Meulin in his hands, and there is no way in hell you're leaving her like a coward. Fear is replaced with white-hot rage as Dartz continues to chuckle, and you want to throw something or lash out or break Dartz's neck. You can't hurt him without hurting Meulin, and Dartz knows. You know that's part of the reason he's holding her so close. The only thing you can do now is talk Meulin and yourself out of this.

"Dartz what the hell are you talking about?" You say through grinding teeth

"I'm talkin' about you gettin' into old business. Why else would you be here with her?" Dartz replies. Suddenly, a memory of something itches in the back of your head. "You know who her parents are." The look on Meulin's face spells betrayal and suspicion.

"You wanna hear what Cronus did to them?" Dartz laughs as Meulin starts to cry more. "He tied the dude to the railing and fucked the woman until she passed out. He flung her over the side of the boat and then cut the ropes. Kicked 'em of the edge and let 'em fuckin' drown."  It's becoming all to real now. The reason you and Gamzee missed an entire year of school, the reason you couldn't stay in one place for more than two weeks, the reason Dartz is here now is all because of Meulin's parents.

 

_"They ain't gonna do jack shit about us. They can't touch us, Candace."_

_"You best start listenin' to me ya damn fools. If they keep tryin' to fuck up my biz and you ain't doin' jack shit about them your heads are gonna be mounted above my fireplace back in Crete. Got it?!"_

_"Yes ma’am..."_

_CRASH_

_"I told you to keep your brats out of our meetin's!"_

_"Kurloz, Gamzee! Get the fuck out and don't come back until I say! You gonna be cleanin' that shit up for a week!"_

 

 _  
_Candace, her imperial condescension, rules so many cities covertly. When people try to stop her from taking over somewhere she gets pissed and orders her thugs, in this case your brother's gang, to off them. You heard Meulin's parent's names only once, but you should have remembered them. You should have ran when you had the chance. You shouldn't have endangered Meulin and Nepeta like this. Now Meulin's going to pay for it, possibly with her life.

"Man, let her go. She's not involved, I didn't tell her anything. Just take me and let's go."

"No way, Kurloz. She knows too much, and you know it. It don't matter if you told her anythin'." Meulin, silently crying, now glares at you in betrayal. She thinks you did this on purpose, you just know it. Pain swells in your heart as you bite the inside of your lip, almost making it bleed. 

"I didn't know she was their daughter."

"Bullshit."

"I'm gonna say this one last time. Let. Her. Go."

"No."

 

\--

 

It happened too fast. Kurloz lunged, knocking the knife out of Dartz's hand. It cut your jaw as it was pushed away. Kurloz pushed you into the kitchen table, accidentally knocking your head against the edge of it. In a flurry of movement, Dartz had Kurloz pinned under him. You watched, dazed by the blow to your head, sound was slightly muddled and your vision blurred at the edges. How hard did you hit your head? Dartz now knocked Kurloz in the head, effectively knocking him out. He turns toward you, watching your slow movements. You can't stop what happens next. 

Dartz picks you up at the waist and slams you down on the table, disorienting you from the sudden movement. As you try to regain your focus, he leaves, only to return in an instant and tie your wrists together. You struggle against your bonds and turn your head, looking for Kurloz. He's pinned against a kitchen chair as Dartz ties him down. The knife is back in his hands as he starts to threaten Kurloz again. He glares at Dartz as though just by looking at him Dartz will burst into flames. You try to roll off the table, but Dartz returns to you, grabbing your hips and keeping you still. He digs in your pockets and throws your phone across the room. You hear it shatter against the fireplace. You hear Kurloz try to break free, but he only manages to knock the chair over. 

Dartz pulls the chair upright, threatening Kurloz again. You're so disoriented that now reality suddenly seems like a dream. A dream that is quickly turning into a nightmare as Dartz returns to you. You feel cold air prick your thighs as your dress rides up. You hear Kurloz's angry screams and curses, Dartz's angry rebuttals and threats, tearing fabric, the sound of your own fearful sobs. The table rocks and squeaks, and you start to hear someone else’s cries. Your face is forcefully turned to look directly at Kurloz, angry tears stream down his face as he's forced to look. Forced to look at you being violated in the worst way possible. 

Eventually you lost consciousness. Your dreams are full of screaming and violent red images. Images of your parents, standing at the bottom of the ocean and staring up at the sun through the water. Images of Nepeta being forced into a cat carrier. When you wake up, you're crying and cold and sore. The amount of pain in your lower body is so intense almost makes you pass out, and you feel like someone is drilling a hole in the side of your head. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the dim light.

You gather that you're not in your apartment anymore. The ground is cold concrete, and the air is damp making it seem like you're underground. You try to sit up but your hands are still tied together, making you fall forward onto your face. All you hear is a faint dripping noise and your own labored breathing. It takes a moment for you to realize that you're naked, but it's so cold you don't think clothing would have made a difference. You roll over and look up at the faint light bulb hanging overhead. The ceiling of the room, with its rafters and exposed wiring, gives away that you're in a basement somewhere. You try to sit up, your hair falling all over your face and chest. Your hair is still oil-free, regardless of lying in a damp basement, so you assume only a few hours have passed since Dartz forced himself into your apartment.

The memory of his forced entry is still fresh in your mind. Your stomach churns as you remember what he did to you. Your stomach violently empties itself on the floor next to you, the amount of disgust you feel is unbearable, and you start to sob again. As your thoughts go through the process of worrying about Nepeta and Kurloz, your cries intensify. Your emotions go from fear and worry to rage and despair. How could Kurloz endanger you like this? If he supposedly knew what he was getting himself into, why did he do it? Was it all an act? Were his words of love and comfort all a lie? You curl into the fetal position, arms tied behind you, and continue to cry.

An hour later, your eyes now dry, someone opens a door from behind you. You don't bother turning your head to look. You know what they're going to do. They drag you across the floor and toss you onto a mattress. They force you face down and start to rut into you, taking advantage of you like their own personal toy. No tears come. Their gruff voice tells you it's not Dartz this time. It's someone else. Someone painfully bigger and more intimidating. Before they finish, they roll you over, emptying themselves on your chest and face. You gag and dry heave, for nothing is left in your stomach, and turn your head away before you could look at them. You don't want to see their face.

However, they grab your face and forces you to look at them. You thought you were done crying, but their eyes, Kurloz's eyes on someone else’s body, produces a hoarse and fragile sob from your throat. He laughs once, a short and deep sound, as you bite your lip, trying to prevent sound from escaping your lips. 

"Even filthy as shit you're still pretty," He whispers. "Too bad you gotta die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sick writing this chapter. It was so hard to write this I feel awful -crawls under a rock and doesn't come out-


	15. Remember me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Local police are searching high and low for a missing young woman by the name of Meulin Leijon, who is a student at Brainerd High School. She disappeared mid-afternoon December 23rd after attending her parents’ funeral. Meulin was last seen entering her apartment building wearing a long, green dress and a white cardigan. She went up to her apartment with a man who is suspected to be the kidnapper. The suspect's name is Kurloz Makara, a fellow student, was last seen entering the apartment with Meulin wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a black jacket. If you have any information of Meulin's or the suspect’s whereabouts, please call . . . .

15

 

 

"Meulin's been missing for three days."

"I've called the police. They said she must have left her apartment willingly because the apartment didn't seem ransacked."

"Does it matter? Meulin wouldn't do this. She knows she has to take care of Nepeta."

"God, I hope she's okay. Christmas wasn't the same without her. I hate to think what she could have done. She had gone through so much..."

"Don't you dare think for a moment she killed herself!"

"Shush! You'll wake Nepeta."

"Despite all she's been through, she never once showed any signs."

"Could it be possible she was hiding them from you?"

"Stop talking about her like she's already dead. Would it kill you to have a little faith, mom?"

"He's right, Miranda."

"I'm sorry. I know I should have more faith, but you know how often I see orphans like this."

"Meulin's not just another orphan."

 

\--

 

They made you watch. Everything they did to her, your eyes were forced open and your head was held so that you couldn't look away. They drugged her, used her, and tossed her in the basement like she wasn't worth anything. Twisting and grinding anger left a searing pit in your stomach as they tortured you now. They cut you, not enough to bleed out, but just enough to feel the sting. They beat you senseless and broke three of your ribs. They held your head underwater until you were almost drowning. They continued to defile Meulin, every time you see her she has new bruises and is bleeding. She stopped crying after the second day.

Three days you have been here, trapped in this dark and moldy building. No doubt it was a new hideout for the Subjuggulators. They feed you both once a day, and the only time you see her is when they decide to drag her up and abuse her in front of you. You don't lash out anymore, there was no point. They keep you on a near constant flow of a drug cocktail. It does weird things to your vision and won't allow you to stand. You think you're going to die here, and there's nothing you can do about it.

 

\--

 

The man you came to know as Cronus appears for the third time today. He just came back from Crete, apparently. He's the one that actually killed your parents. He looked just like Dartz, but a little more like someone else you know. You can't put a finger on it, but it's not like it matters now. He's almost as rough with you as Highblood. He makes you beg for various things; food, water, sex, drugs, a blanket. If you don't, he'll beat you until you pass out. You're pretty sure you have a broken rib and wrist. Your body is littered with bruises, most of them handprint shaped. You can no longer conjure any tears, and now you wait to die. 

You spend most of your time thinking about Nepeta. When you do die, you know she'll be well taken care of. Miranda knows exactly what to and how to take care of her. You doubt she'll even remember you as time goes on. The thought almost brings tears to your eyes. Almost.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" You have many nicknames here, but that one always makes your skin crawl.

"Not enjoyin' yourself?" He drawls with his strange un-southern accent. You say nothing and continue to stare at your bare legs. He lifts you up by the waist and slams you hard against the wall. You don't even cry out as your rib screams with pain. Already he's pushing into you, ripping your sensitive flesh. Your arms dangle at your sides and your head lulls back automatically, giving Cronus a full view of your neck. He attaches to you like a leech, going over old bruises with his teeth and making them worse. You're numb. 

 

\--

 

_Local police are searching high and low for a missing young woman by the name of Meulin Leijon, who is a student at Brainerd High School. She disappeared mid-afternoon December 23rd after attending her parents’ funeral. Meulin was last seen entering her apartment building wearing a long, green dress and a white cardigan. She went up to her apartment with a man who is suspected to be the kidnapper. The suspect's name is Kurloz Makara, a fellow student, was last seen entering the apartment with Meulin wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a black jacket. If you have any information of Meulin's or the suspect’s whereabouts, please call . . . ._

_\--_

_  
_You wake to a loud crash. You had rolled off the dirty mattress and onto the floor again. You try to sit up, ignoring the pain in your abdomen. Suddenly the air is filled with the sound of gunshots. You recoil and press yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The door bursts open and you're blinded by several flashlights. A flurry of voices surrounded you, and you realize that the people standing in front of your aren't the people you've spent the last week or so with. Your pulled up, covered, and carried out gently. The gunshots stopped, and you try to look around, but the voice of the man holding you barks to not look. It was too late, you saw the bullet hole littered body of Cronus lying in a doorway.

You lay your head on the person's chest and shiver as the cold night air seeped through the blanket somebody had wrapped you in. Soon you were placed in an ambulance and hauled off to a hospital, leaving you to wonder what became of Kurloz.

 

\--

 

No not again please no God why. 

An extreme feeling of Deja vu washed over you as you were pinned to the ground, needle and thread being held over your face. Dartz and Hakuna both gave a sinister laugh. The needle presses against your bottom lip, right where your brother had started last time.

"Time to finish what I started a month ago." But your brother never did. There was a crash on the first floor, the front door being kicked in. Dartz and Hakuna both stood and looked at each other. A yell and then a flurry of gunshots later and the room was swarmed with police. They ordered you to stay on the ground and spread out your hands on the floor. Deafening gunshots over your head made you look around. Dartz hit the ground, and Hakuna jumped out of the window, disappearing forever. 

You were dragged out, regardless of your injuries and cries of pain, and put in the back of a police car. You try to explain, but they're not having. You catch a brief glimpse of Meulin as the car pulls away into the night, heading towards the police station. You're put in a holding cell, and you wait to be questioned, all the while groaning quietly in pain. You sat on the hard bench and leaned against the wall, resting your head on it. You stare at the door, waiting for someone to come in, and thought about the situation.

Meulin's free. But is she safe? Hakuna jumped out of a second story window, but could he have survived? Was there a fire escape of another building close enough that he could jump to it and escape? Would Candace come looking? If she did, she would find you. You imagine once she finds out about this incident that she will be extremely pissed off, but not enough to leave her mansion and life of luxury in Greece. Right?

Breaking your train of thought, the cell door opens and another person is escorted inside. You lock eyes with each other and suddenly you're filled with shock.

"Eridan?!" You can't believe it. You haven't seen Cronus' little brother in forever, and you never thought you would meet him again in jail. He winces as you recognize him.

"Yeah yeah. What of it?" Eridan scoffs and plops down on the bench beside you, slumping until his head is level with your shoulder. 

"What happened?" You ask. Like you, Eridan really wanted nothing to do with the Subjuggulators. He lives separately with a foster family. However, every so often Cronus or Dartz find him and try to involve him in the "family business".

"Yesterday Cronus came to my house. Apparently he's dead, but Dartz is missing." Shit. They're both alive? "They came to me first. Somehow I ended up here."

You know exactly why, but you don't say anything. Eridan has a hot temper. He most likely pissed one of the cops off with some choice words. In the past you would have tried to calm him down, but right now you were too distracted. You can practically feel Eridan simmering beside you as you mull over your thoughts. Occasionally Eridan let out a huff of breath, wanting attention. Eventually he got fed up with your silence and stood.

"Why didn't you stop them?!" He yelled, glaring at you through his glasses. You didn't stand because you couldn't, instead you stayed seated on the bench looking up at him through your bangs. 

"What could I possibly do?" You ask as calmly as possible.

"I don't know! I wasn't raised with them!" That hit a nerve. You stood up defensively but the pain was so intense that you fell back on the bench. "Tch. Pathetic."

You gave a snicker and shook your head.

“I’m the pathetic one, because I totally hide behind my anger.” You’re not having any of Eridan’s shit right now. You look at Eridan, gauging his reaction. He stood there in silence, fist clenched tightly as he sharply replied.

“At least I don’t kidnap other women to get my own kicks off.” Eridan returned the look to you, his eyes filled with a deep burning cold rage.

You quickly stood up from the bench, anger numbing the pain you felt shooting through your body; the torture still fresh on your body and mind, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t know the story. He doesn’t what really happened in that apartment, and it was in that ignorance you found strength to hold off at least some of the pain coursing through.

“You prick! You don’t even know the truth and that is why you’re the pathetic one! You think you’re always right?” You try your hardest to suppress the memories, trying to grasp onto the anger, trying to fight back the tears. “You don’t know a damn thing of what happened with Meulin!”

You try and shove Eridan, your movements somewhat sluggish and slow, making it easy for him to quickly sidestep and deliver a painful blow to your broken ribs. The river of pain rips through the dam you had built and you stumble back onto the bench holding your side and gasping in pain from the punch. Eridan looks down at you, as if you were a mere insect he could stomp on, his fury still in his eyes.

“Looks like the Highblood’s brother is hurt, I wonder from what? Maybe Meulin was able to hurt you before you got a hold of her.” You clench your teeth, the blinding pain forces you to release a tear while you hold onto your side like a wounded animal. You look at the porthole and see a guard peeking in. When he realizes you’re not making another move, his face disappears.

“You disgust me. I never thought you’d become one of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written with the help of my wonderful friend Steven S. Couldn't have done it without you, dude.


	16. Silent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You close your eyes and let the flood come, letting it drown you. Letting it kill you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited next chapter is here! I apologize for the amount of time it took to get this up, but I feel it's well worth the wait. This chapter was written, scrapped, rewritten, had chunks cut off, had chunks put on, edited and re-edited from hell back. It was very difficult to write and at point I let my mind wander to places I felt weren't entirely necessary but I wanted to go anyway. In the end, I have happily settled with this. Perhaps one day I will branch off here with an alternate storyline. But for now, enjoy!

You glued yourself to opposite ends of the bench. Eridan huffs occasionally, exuding rage. You try to shift as little as possible so to prevent unnecessary pain. You lean your head back against the wall, waiting for your interrogation. Eridan is escorted out first, flipping you off as he skulks out of the room. You don’t even bother with a reaction, just sliding down and laying on the bench. You doze slightly, going in and out of consciousness. The light above your head dims and brightens with your wavering eyelids.

You remember being rudely shook awake and escorted into a dim grey room. One of the nicer officers even helped you sit in the chair right before he handcuffed you to the table. Standard procedure, he said. Now, You wait as an officer talks to a woman, presumably your interrogator, who is hidden behind the doorframe. She saunters in, shutting the door behind her. It was then you notice she is blind. For a moment, it throws you off. Why would they send a blind person to interrogate you?

"Alrighty then," She starts, sitting opposite to you on the other side of the table. Her cane rests against the table, the top of it adorned with a red dragon. She grazes her fingers quickly over a couple pages of Braille, biting her lip as she did. "Kurloz Makara, age nineteen, drop out from Brainerd High, brother to the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs I've ever laid blind eyes on. How are you?"  
Is she kidding?

"Probably dying. You?" She laughs, a short gruff noise.

"Tired considering I got pulled away from a very lively New Year‘s party while I was off duty to interrogate somebody who is obviously innocent." She's on your side already and you've only said three words. That was unexpected, and suspicious to say the least. "So let's get down to it. You are obviously not Miss Leijon's kidnapper."

You blink a couple of times, wanting more information on her thought process, but not quite sure how to ask for it. She bites her lip and you get a glimpse of her teeth, pearl white and straight as a line. Her entire demeanor is slightly unsettling, like she can see through you regardless of visual maladies.

She continues to drag her fingers along the indented paper slowly, resting her head on the other. You watch her deft fingers trace unrecognizable patterns across the paper. It looks like she's rereading one specific line. You look up and see her face scrunch slightly in confusion.

"What?" You ask, gently trying to massage the pain out of your neck. She fiddles with the edge of the paper before speaking.

"Did you know about Miss Leijon's parents?"

 

\--

 

You have an iv needle with many different fluids pumping into your body to stop the screaming. You heard several different names of sedatives, one of which is now coursing through your body, making you numb to everything. Your bed is angled so you're comfortably resting with a perfect view of the TV and window with blinds that don't open. A few nurses bustle about throughout the day, trying to keep you in stable condition. At least you’re out of the emergency ward.

One of the nurses adjusts the iv to pump less fluid in, slides a bedpan underneath you, and leaves with the other two allowing you to be alone with your thoughts. You wish they would come back. Your thoughts are not wanted. This disgusted view of yourself makes you sick. The feeling of been used to the point where you will never be the same consumes you, degrades your self worth, making you think you’re worth only what you can physically give. No matter how hard you try to swallow the feeling down, they continue to fill you up to the point where you’re spilling over.

You try and try to remind yourself that you’re still worth something more, that you’re worth so much more than your body to other people, but it’s not working. With your body newly hydrated, you find yourself silently crying. The tears pour and you close your eyes against them, wanting to shut out the world, your thoughts, your memories.

In that room you stay. Three days pass and you’re able to stand by yourself. Only half the dosage of sedation is necessary to keep you from hurting. The only people allowed to see you is Miranda. She visits everyday, mostly in tears from relief mixed with sorrow. You refuse to tell her what they did to you, but you have a feeling she knows.  Maternal instinct. You spend your days trying to catch up on events that happened, trying to ask about Nepeta. The only thing she told is that she is okay and safe and that is all that matters.

“I want you to concentrate on healing.” She says, voice hoarse from sobbing. You know she doesn’t mean just physically. “We’ll take care of her while you do.”

“Let me do it. If I will heal, I need to restore some normalcy.”

“But taking care of a child is stressful-”

“Taking care of two boys is stressful. Taking care of a very well behaved and morally sound toddler is normal. For me, anyways.” Miranda agrees, smiling as she wipes her nose with a tissue. She stares at the wall behind your head, trying to ignore your still bruised face. The two of you sit in silence until visiting hours are up. When she is gone, the thoughts snake their way in, taking hold of your body. Against your will, you began thinking of Kurloz. You close your eyes and let the flood come, letting it drown you. Letting it kill you.

 

\--

 

“I called Kurloz.“ Miranda says as you walk outside the hospital. Her car was pulled underneath the shelter, temporary parking for pickup and drop-off.

“Why?”

“Because.” She says as she opens the car door for you. You sit inside and close the door behind you as she walks around to the other side. When she slams the door you speak again.

“How did you even get his room number anyway?” You blankly stare out the car window as Miranda puts her bag in the backseat. She shrugs in response and turns on the car.

“Magic. I told the nurse who answered to tell him we’re on our way. It’ll give him time to think of what to say. ” You try to sigh quietly so that Miranda won’t hear. Of course it doesn’t work and she gives you a pointed look out of the corner of her eye.

Your stomach has not stopped churning in disgust since you’ve been off sedation, and the rib that was fractured still aches. You’re sure that you look like a haggard old witch considering you haven’t had a proper bath or a good night’s sleep in almost a month. That’s what you’re craving most right now. A shower. Or a bath. A nice hot bubble bath with candles and chocolate. The thought normally would have gotten you excited to go home, but now it only gives you slight relief for you know what’s going to happen when you return home.

You wish they would have killed you before the police came, spared you of the rumours and side glances. Saved you from the eternal sympathetic looks. Saved you from returning to your classes and having to suffer the snide comments, leering glances, disgusted glares. The mere thought makes you want to fling yourself out of the vehicle and into the speeding highway. What fresh hell awaits your arrival?

“We tried to keep everything we could out of the news media.” Miranda says suddenly, obviously reading your mind with some kind of Jewish mom powers.

“I know,” You say, pulling your legs up into the seat. You’re so tired, physically and mentally, that you can barely keep your eyes open.

“I’ve called your teachers. They’re all perfectly fine with sending replacement work so you don’t have to come into school.” Miranda continues, keeping her eyes on the road. “That is, if you want to stay home.”

“I’ll think about it.” You answer, almost dozing off. “Where’s Nepeta?”

“She’s at my apartment with Equius and Horuss. She misses you a lot. We told her you had to go find that cat that ran away several months ago. You know she still remembers that?” You laugh silently.

“It was traumatizing.” You reply. A sudden strong longing for that days when the biggest thing you had to worry about it your pet running away fills your body. This undying longing is what sent you over the edge. Your eyes water, blurring the already hazy rolling landscape. You bury your face in your sweater, trying not to make a sound.   
  



	17. BrEaKiNg DoWn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You strictly focus on cleaning yourself, but your instinct to cleanse yourself of the impurity you now have makes you accidentally rub your skin raw with the rag. The skin on your arm is an angry red colour, throbbing and stinging. Several small pinpricks of blood well up. You still feel dirty.

17

 

 

You wake to the sound of a nurse’s voice in the background. The first thing you notice is you are able to breathe without your ribs screaming in pain. What you feel now is a slow, dull ache that you can most likely ignore. You reach up and brush your dirty hair out of your eyes and off of your forehead. The nurse come up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

She’s coming. Meulin’s on her way, the nurse said so just now. The first conversation you’ll have with her since the night you two were kidnapped will happen in less than an hour. You glance at the clock, trying to gauge what time she will arrive. Counting your breaths, you wait once more.

As the hour passes, two nurses come in. They fiddle with your IV, they check your vitals, and empty your bedpan. It’s all so incredibly monotonous now. After almost two weeks of sitting in a hospital it’s grown so old. They all assure you that you’ll be able to go home within a few days, but you doubt it. They’ll keep you, running up the medical bill as long as possible.

When then nurses leave, you can finally breathe. They always make you feel like a child, doting on you like a mother would. You digress, glancing at the clock. It’s almost time. You stare at the black screen of the hanging, outdated television. Waiting. Listening.

Several minutes later, you hear soft and delicate steps coming down the hallway. You breathe in deep, wincing as your ribs protest. A shadow appears on the door, and then a familiar face. She knocks twice on the door, asking permission to enter even though she’s staring right at you. You motion for her to come, and she does.

She sits on the chair closest to the bed, even going so far as to scoot it closer so that she could easily reach you. Her gaze is soft, but broken. Her eyes, once held vibrant life, now were even more dull than the funeral. Her lips part, as if to say something, but close again. You rush to tell her, to apologize, to clarify, to say something, ANYTHING.

“Meulin, I’m sorry. I need to explai-” Your word vomit is prematurely cut off by her finger on your lips.

“I saw the news report. You don’t have to tell me,” She says to you as she gazes at you in your hospital bed. You sit in silence. You have no words to say to her. You expect her to explode with anger, demanding answers, screaming until she lost her voice. Why didn’t you tell her about your brother? Why didn’t you warn her that you were being followed home from the funeral? Why?

She pulls back, falling silent as well. You both stare at the tiled floor, counting the flecks of colour on a white background. You cannot stand to look at the now yellow bruises on her face and body. They remind you of the still fresh hell you both somehow managed to escape. However many times you could apologize, it would never be enough.

Countless minutes pass by with just silent gazing. You both seem to be taking inventory of injuries. Eventually she gets up, leaning of you and kissing your cheek. You’re sure it’s a sign of forgiveness, one you don’t deserve. However, you relax under her. She gives you a smile and sits back down, holding your hand.

“I know you didn’t mean to put me in danger. It’s not your fault. Even if you had told me I wouldn’t have let you leave.”

“Why?”

“Because… I really like you. I don’t want you out in the streets. But…”

“But you can’t keep me now, can you?” She doesn’t answer right away. Instead she looks down at your joined hands, stroking her thumb over your knuckles.

“I don’t expect you to understand at first. You know what they did to me. I don’t think-” She pauses, a catch in her throat. “I don’t think I can look at you without remembering what your brother and his… servants did to me.”

The world slows to a stop. Is this a break-up? Were you two even together? It doesn’t matter now. Even if she does like you, she can’t stand the sight of you. You look too much like your goddamn brother. Rage bubbles in the pit of your stomach. It fills you up and spills over. You don’t realize you’re squeezing Meulin’s hand until she tugs it. You loosen your grip, closing your eyes with a sigh.

“I won’t push it. I just want you to know something, alright?” She nods. “I didn’t know about your parents. I never got involved with any of my brother’s work.”

“I know.”

She left as quickly as she came, leaving a massive gaping hole in your chest. If you had died in that roach infested shit hole, you are sure this is hell. You stare blankly at the walls, not willing to move. You cannot blame her. You refuse to blame her. She chose this simply because she cannot handle the pain that comes with staying. You understand, but you hate this feeling of emptiness that her presence in your life had previously fixed.

You most likely won’t admit to anyone the tears you shed after her departure. You made the nurse that came in swear not to tell. She had squeezed your shoulder sympathetically as she switched out the empty IV for a new one. You wish you had one of those buttons that let you control the flow. You want to be completely numb. You want to end your suffering. You never considered suicide so much in one day.

Your brother, that devil in human bones, ruined your existence. You curse the parents you never had for leaving you with that monstrosity of a brother. Whether it be by death or abandoning, you hate them almost as much as you hate Hakuna. Your loathing finally rests upon yourself, for not finding a way to leave. For not taking Gamzee and running away. In the back of your mind, you know they would have found you eventually.

Your nurse steps into your room, stating you have another visitor. You don’t even bother asking who. You nod, watching the fleeting shadow of her figure disappear into the hallway. You listen to her steps tail down the hall to the nurse’s station. You wait for the next set of feet to come trailing your way. The only thing you hear, however, is a slow shuffling sound. They must be dragging their feet. Half a moment passes and you can see their hunched shadow on the door.

Into your room slinks your younger brother, bruise and paint free to your surprise. You’re heart leaps into your throat and you cry out in joy. He’s okay! My God, he’s OKAY! If you could run to him you would. Instead he comes to you as you struggle to sit up. He wraps his skinny little arms around you, my god he’s gotten so skinny. When was the last time he ate? Who was taking care of him? Why does he smell like cinnamon?

It doesn’t matter. You’re brother is safe in your bruised and battered arms and you’re crying with joy and for a moment everything feels like it’s going to be just fine.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
You sit on your counter, feeling the cool tile underneath your palms. While you were gone, Miranda had kept the place clean, sparkling actually. It’s never looked better, even when you first moved in. Now in place of the fake daisies you had, a plain box with a lid sits on your kitchen table with a label in big, bolded red letters. “EVIDENCE,” the box said. You stare at it, possibly waiting for it to do something interesting. Maybe but on a top hat and start singing show tunes, you’re not really sure.

After several moments, you slide off the counter and step to the table. You pull the lid off the box and look in. Stacks of papers and unlabeled books meet your eyes. You pick out one book in particular, a red one with gold lined edges. The spine was blank, making you think that it was a journal of sorts. The edges of the covers are worn and slightly frayed, they give a little under your touch. You take a breath and open it to the first page.

You return to reality several hours later, mentally exhausted and eyes prickling with dried tears. Resting your elbows on the table, you place your head in both your hands, rubbing your eyes with your palms. Your breathing is deep and slow, measured to try and control it. You don’t bother glancing at the clock when you raise your head. You know it’s now the wee hours in the morning. The table now littered with various journals and papers, some water stained, some scans of ripped papers, and some burned around the edges. The last journal lay open in front of you, the last page screaming out at you.

A note lay inside with the last page, crumpled and stained with god knows what. You don’t want to think about it. You need coffee or a drink or maybe some laundry detergent. Your body craves some form of purification. You briefly consider downing the bottle of soap sitting on the corner of your sink. Déjà vu hits you like a bus as Nepeta shuffles out of her room, sniffling like she has a cold.

“Meurin?” She asks, rubbing the sleep out of her eye. You slide out of your chair and scoop her into your arms. “What are you doing up, little lion?”

“I couldn’t sweep” She mumbles into your hair. You begin to hum a lullaby that your dad used to sing as he tucked you into bed. A lullaby that your mother only ever sang to you once. You sway on spot, trying to lull Nepeta to sleep with soft gently movements and sounds, thinking about what you read about your mother.

Before she grew distant, before she left, before she died, she had been a wonderful mother. Diliane Leijon was loving and kind and the perfect maternal figure. It wasn’t until she learned of the true harshness of the world that she became cold and distant. The world had rotted her core, leaving a pretty shell in its place. She loved you so much, to the best of her ability you now know she did. She continued to take care and raise you. It was your father who stayed the same, for he already knew how the world can be cruel. In a way, you now blame your father for your mother’s lack of guidance.

Nepeta snores slightly in your ear. You slowly tip toe into her room and detach her from your body. Laying Nepeta down on the bed, you bring her covers up to her chin and place the smallest peck on her cheek. You creep back out into the living room and sit down on the couch, putting the box of “evidence” behind you, shoving it to the back of your mind. You close your eyes and count until your heart slows. Opening your eyes, you gaze into the fireplace. You stare into the burning logs, watching them slowly turn to ash. Suddenly, an empty feeling stirs within your hand. You look down and realize what’s missing.

Tears prick into your eyes again. You fall over on the couch, burying your face into the cushion. Bad move. His smell is still there, invading your nostrils. You don’t move, however. You cry silently yet again, staining the cushion. You continue to breathe in his scent and feel his absence, as if you didn’t have enough people missing in your life. The thought hit’s a note in your mind. You can’t afford to lose more than you have to. You will not lose more than you have to.

You quickly look up at the clock. Four hours until visitation. You roll to your feet, striding silently to your room. You locate your laptop underneath your bed and pull it out, pressing the button on the side to turn it on. You send a quick email to Horuss, hoping he’s awake.  
  
To: Meulin  
From: Horuss  
Date: January 7th 2013  3:14 AM  
  
8=D What’s up?  
  
  
To: Horuss  
From: Meulin  
Date: January 7th 2013 3:15 AM  
  
=(^v.v^)=  I NEED YOU TO TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL IN FOUR HOURS.  
  
To: Meulin  
From: Horuss  
Date: January 7th 2013 3:17 AM  
  
8=D What?  
  
  
To: Horuss  
From: Meulin  
Date: January 7th 2013 3:17 AM  
  
=(^o-o^)=  I NEED TO TALK TO KURLOZ  
  
  
To: Meulin  
From: Horuss  
Date: January 7th 2013 3:18 AM  
  
8=D I’ll pick you up at 6:45  
  
  
  
You slide the computer off your lap and get up to take a shower. You grab a towel from the closet just inside the bathroom door and turn on the light. You shut the door and go to turn on the tap, fiddling with the shower switch for a moment. The steam from the shower fogs your vision slightly, making everything hazy, surreal. The nighttime glow of the city filters through the partially closed blinds of the window inside the shower. The curtain you bought blocked the light from the overhead light, making it dim inside.

Once you step in, your thoughts are already racing. You strictly focus on cleaning yourself, but your instinct to cleanse yourself of the impurity you now have makes you accidentally rub your skin raw with the rag. The skin on your arm is an angry red colour, throbbing and stinging. Several small pinpricks of blood well up. You still feel dirty.

Hesitantly, you step out of the shower, turning it off closing the curtain. Your mind reels and you sink to the mat on the floor. Your head lays off it on the cool tile, pointed away from the mat as your stomach churns in disgust. It churns because you aren’t pure. You aren’t untouched. You aren’t willing.

You were a whore. Something that was used specifically for sex. You were only worth what your body could give. You ARE only worth what your body can give. People can take what they please from you, it’s not like you can stop them. You can’t fight. You shouldn’t’ fight. Fighting makes it worse. Fighting seals your worst fate. So you let yourself go limp. You let them in, because they’re going to get in regardless. They have more power.

You feel your stomach give and you retch. You dry heave your guts out on and off for about an hour or so, tears streaming but you didn’t sob. You wish you could crawl into the earth and never come out, just letting the dirt and rock crush you. It would be much easier on your stomach.

You have no idea how long you’ve been laying here on the bathroom floor, but it must have been hours because you hear footsteps in the background behind the sound of Nepeta’s soft snoring. You bolt up quickly, wrapping a towel around you. It was more to cover yourself as you now notice you’re almost completely dry. You quickly trot out of the bathroom and into your room, trying to find something clean to pull on. Not even a second later you hear a soft knock at the door. You don’t even bother with underwear. You slip on a pair of skinny jeans and a thick hoodie and go to answer the door.


	18. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You touch the window; it nearly burns your fingertips. The summer scorched the high buildings. You came to empty the rest of your closet, turn the key in, and sign a paper. With everything now in a bag, it leaves only one thing.

Horuss says nothing, and you’re relieved. He just ushers Equius in to watch after Nepeta and waits for you to pull on your shoes. Equius stops you before you leave and pulls you into a warm and strong hug. So out of character for him, but you understand. Everyone has been so concerned about you. Everyone who cares about you has gone through so much while you were taken. You doubt anyone’s gotten the chance to take in that you’re here now. That you’re still alive.

Equius let’s you go, turning away and into the kitchen. Horuss wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you out. The walk down is silent. The car ride is silent. There’s nothing to say to each other because you both understand each other so well that there’s no need for words. You haven’t lately been thankful for Horuss as much as you should, but now his knowing and accepting silence comforts you and makes you extremely grateful to have him and his family in your life. There are no words for your gratitude.

The hospital is a shinning white beacon amongst a sea of dull gray. The sun has yet to peak over the mountains, giving the world a hazy and dim glow just before it rises. You press your forehead against the window, feeling the distance between you and Kurloz grow less and less as Horuss pulls into the parking lot. He pulls to a stop directly in front of the door, letting you leave the car as he goes to park. You don’t wait for Horuss to catch up. Instead you walk straight into the building.

Even though you only visited his room once, you remember the exact location. Room two thirteen, second floor, third door on the left in the west wing. You know it because you imagined yourself many times walking there from your room on the first floor while you were checked in. Now you make your way to the elevator, paying no mind to the few people you do pass. You think to yourself how you could have ever told him that you couldn’t stay with him. It seems impossible after one day.

You’ve grown to love him, deeply and unconditionally. The constant reminder of his brother, the man who defiled you in all the worst ways, will never pass. You know that. Can you live with it like you learned to live without parents?  You’re determined to now. Kurloz just entered your life. You cannot allow him to leave just yet. You’re stronger than this, you know you are. You’re raising a child almost by yourself. You go to school and have two jobs and you don’t make lower than a ‘C’. You survived being beaten and raped everyday for almost two weeks. You had a heart transplant and lived without your anti rejection medicine for that same two week period. You can fucking do this. You are stronger than that.

Your stride is unwavering as you make your way to Kurloz’s room. His door is barely open and swings back easily under your hand. You glance in, seeing him look up from his breakfast with more alive eyes. They widen with surprise and recognition as they lock onto yours. You stand at the door, waiting for him to say something, but his expression is stunned. You slowly step in and walk to the edge of his bed. You begin gathering your words, organizing them to make as much sense as possible. He gets there before you do.

“I thought-” He cuts off, but it’s not like he needs to finish the sentence for you to realize what he was about to say. His eyebrows knit together, confusion spreads across his features.

“I thought so too.” You say. He slides the tray away from his body. You realize that he’s no longer attached to an IV. The only wire hanging from him is the heart monitor lightly clamped to his finger. He’s not wearing a hospital gown, just his boxers. You can see that the bruises on his chest and stomach are all yellow and nearly gone. You look back at his face and step forward, sitting on the side of the bed next to him.

“Meulin…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I came to say something. I cannot completely bury what your brother and his men did to me. I cannot erase the constant reminders I have. I cannot help but be disgusted with myself every waking moment even though I know very well it wasn’t my fault. None of that matters to me right now. I am strong enough to live on. I can live with that. I know I can. If I want Nepeta to grow up to be strong and happy, I have to be an example. I have to teach her eventually that even through all the cruelty the world had to offer me, I still lived on. I still made it. I never lost more than I had to. I never lost what I couldn’t control losing. I never lost you.

I can’t lose you. Kurloz I can’t. I haven’t known you more than two months and I can’t lose you. I can’t live without you now. When I found you in that alley never once did I think that I would feel this way about you. I wanted to help you and heal you. It wasn’t until I was broken that I realized I wasn’t supposed to help you. You, Kurloz, helped me realize that even though I could do this alone, I don’t want to. I don’t want to live on without you. I cannot live on without you. I need your help. I need to know that everyday that even though the world can be so wicked; there is someone there who is sincere and good. There is someone who loves me as much as one can be loved. There is someone I can love as much as one can be loved.”

A moment passes after I stop. I catch my breath and continue to look at him and I realize that as I was ranting we had gotten closer. Close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck. Close enough so that I could count his eyelashes. Close enough to kiss. So we did. A soft touch was enough to send my chest aflutter.

This felt genuine. All of the meaningless forced touches suddenly didn’t affect you. Whatever darkness plagued your mind now faded into mist as it was replaced with Kurloz, replaced with his warmth, his touch that assures you that you’re so much more than a play thing. Slow warmth from within yourself swam through you, a familiar feeling that you missed ever so dearly.

Winter turned to spring in front of your eyes. Nepeta grew. The box of evidence shoved aside. The Subjuggulators disappeared from the city, leaving only hollow memories and scars. You and Horuss graduated. Nepeta started summer camp. You were offered to be manager of the café. Kurloz took your place at the bookstore. Slowly your life was pieced back together. Slowly you picked yourself up, gluing all the bits together. Like a broken mirror, however, you could still see the cracks. That was okay. You can hold the crack together.

Now, eight and a half months later, you stand in your old apartment. It’s now empty, save for the kitchen utilities. With all the scholarship money and pay raises, you could afford to move somewhere better. Somewhere a little closer to your chosen college. Part time college, full time work. Nepeta loves the new building, though it’s farther away from Horuss and Equius. You can’t look out the window and see Horuss’ room as you are doing right now.

You touch the window; it nearly burns your fingertips. The summer scorched the high buildings. You came to empty the rest of your closet, turn the key in, and sign a paper. With everything now in a bag, it leaves only one thing. The box of evidence. It was a copy of the original, you know that. Otherwise someone would have came and got it. It sits on the floor of the closet. Even with your back turned to it, you can feel it. The image of it burned into your mind. Soft footsteps come to your door; you don’t need to look up.

 

\--

 

You watch her from the doorway of her old room. You know she’s thinking about the box. You’ve only seen it once, but you’ve never laid eyes upon the contents. It wasn’t important. She hid it from the world, going back to pretending that her parents didn’t exist. You guess it was for the best. After you go so long without parents it seems like they never existed in the first place. You can’t even remember the names of yours.

You walk up beside her, wrapping your arm around her waist. She stopped tensing at a person’s touch completely a few months after the incident. She still feels slight unease, she admitted one night. It’s progress, you think as you kiss her temple.

“I can take the box, if you’d like,” You murmur into her hair. You feel her nod slightly, finally leaning into you. You stay like that, reveling the moment. The last time either of you would be in this room. The last reminder of the horrible moments that were not memories.

You slowly pry yourself away and reach down for the box, taking it into the kitchen while you wait for her to finish. You’re left alone with your thoughts and the box. You idly think of Gamzee, and how his friend Tavros is letting him stay with him and his brother Rufioh. You met Rufioh at the funeral, but you wouldn’t have guessed that he and the boy Tavros were brothers. Nevertheless, Gamzee has a home. He has people to take care of him, and that is enough for you.

You do miss him. Gamzee is your brother, and he’s never tried to sew your mouth shut so that’s bonus points for him. When things settle down even further, you hope to visit him as often as possible to make sure he’s not getting into any trouble. The thing you don’t want the most is for him to end up like Hakuna. Police are still looking for him and Dartz. They’re on the run for sure. Probably overseas where they can’t be touched.

You look down at the box in your hands. You give in to curiosity and pull the lid off, setting it on the kitchen table. You sift through papers and journals, not really reading. One particular journal caught your eye; the name engraved on it is all too familiar. Simon Vantas. You set the other papers aside and flip through the book, not paying attention to the sound of Meulin’s footsteps coming closer.  
  



	19. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I met this woman long ago. She was the literal embodiment of the sun. Her skin was radiant and bright and her eyes shone like a gypsy's crystal. She was wonderfully agile and feline, grace became her.

_My dear Disciple,_

_I met this woman long ago. She was the literal embodiment of the sun. Her skin was radiant and bright and her eyes shone like a gypsy's crystal. She was wonderfully agile and feline, grace became her. One day as she was tending to the plants in the orphanage‘s garden, I saw every thought, deep and shallow, through her eyes. How complex she was, being a walking ray of light in this dark world, but having her own dark center much like an imploding star. That was the day I fell in love with her. As if I hadn't already been enthralled by her loud personality and kind words._

_Alas, it was the boundless wisdom and her interesting nature that pulled me in deeper. It is because of her, through no fault of my own, that I live and love today. Regardless of my ever present wish to end it where I stand, I find that I am physically unable. She drives me to continue my quest of peace and equality, and leaving her in this world alone would be cruel at best. It's like leaving a rose unpicked in a town that is doomed to be destroyed. You want to pluck it from it's bush and carry it with you wherever you may go. Even that has it's consequences, however._

_Once you pluck the rose it begins to wither and die in your hand. Thus, I am at a loss of what to do. If I take her with me, I risk her dying during our conquests. If I leave her, she is doomed to be buried with this godforsaken world. If God has mercy he will let this beauty die a painless and quiet death. Should I ask her to join me, I shall pray harder than anything else I’ve prayed for._

_Little girl, one day you’ll be a woman. You’ll one day understand what me and your mother went through to try and make the world better, not only for you but for everyone. I can’t ask you to try to understand now, you’re just a toddler. Mommy and Daddy work hard enough as it is without abandoning you. We never want it to come to that. Ever._

_Should we have to leave, we will make sure that you’re old enough to handle the responsibility of being on your own. I have much faith in you, little one. You’re so independent for your age, it’s almost certain you’ll be able to handle it. However much I’d love to stay with you and raise you myself, I have duties to the world. I have no doubt in you, and may you have no doubt that we will return. We love you._

_-  
_

_Our little joys,_

_Meulin, I hope when Nepeta is old enough to appreciate this story, you will tell her. The reasons for our departure outweigh our responsibilities as full time parents. As we stay, even as I write this, we are putting you both in extreme danger._

_When we both chose this life, it was before either of you were born. Our duty to the world was already set in stone when we discovered your dear mother was pregnant with you, Meulin. Great things had already been set in motion and there was no way to stop them. We had no choice._

_The birth of you and your sister only strengthened our cause for the mission. We now have two beautiful girls that we brought into the world, a world in great need of fixing. We cannot live as parents while the world burns around our family. We must do something._

_More than anything I wish to give you the details of our work, but it’s far to complex and you both are still far too young to grasp it._

_-_

_It’s been a month, and we still have not gotten any leads on the Condesce. I’m not leaving Greece until I at least find out where she hides. I’ve encountered many of her men, the woman practically owns the country. She has the public officials on a tight rope and the police force wrapped around her finger._

_Diliane is getting antsy. She wants to go home to the girls, but she knows we can’t. If we leave the country now we’ll certainly be followed. I’m starting to regret this trip deeply. I miss my dear daughters. Apparently we’ve missed Nepeta’s first steps. The ache in my chest feels akin to a knife wound._

_I want to be a father, it is an urge that I cannot ignore. Diliane won’t admit it, but she dearly wants to be a mother. I caught her weeping about it in our apartment the other day when she thought I wasn’t there. Two more weeks, I said to her. Just two weeks._

 

\--

 

You watch him read your father’s journal, not surprised that curiosity got the better of him. You lean against the doorframe and try not to focus on the words that Kurloz is reading. You instead focus on his form. The bruises and cuts all healed, leaving only small scars as a memory. You could no longer tell from this distance that he’d had a needle shoved through his lips a few months ago. His mouth curves softly while his lips part slightly. His eyes focus, intense and darting from word to word on the pages he is engulfed in.

He pulls himself to reality and sets the book down, the last note in his hand. You turn your head and look out the window. The leaves of far away trees are yellow and brown with the oncoming autumn. The mountain is spotted with green trees still, giving it a disjointed appearance. For a moment, there is peace again.

Kurloz turns, realizing that you are standing behind him, and places the crumpled note on the table. You welcome his comforting arms as they circle your waist.

“It’s over.” You nod in agreement, resting your hands on his chest. He gently rocks in place, and you know he‘s right. Whatever hardship life threw at you in the past, it’s over now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to move forward and make something of yourself, with Kurloz by your side.

“Never again, not in my nine lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yes you've reached the end of the story. you may have noticed that the chapter thing says 19/20 chapters. well sit down because there is more, but it's not advancement in story. It'll be an extra that you may want to read to get a better grasp on things. i hope you enjoyed the story as much as I when I was writing it. Thank you for your loyal readership, and thank you for sticking through to the end.


End file.
